Until the Last Breath Leaves My Body
by Camelotpointe
Summary: A collection of short stories about the characters of 'Merlin'. Chapter 40: 'Hide All Weakness'. Merlin isn't feeling well, but is determined not to let anyone know. Chapter 41: 'The Secret Sharer'. After discovering Agravaine in the caves (S4E7), Gwaine speaks to Arthur about his uncle. Chapter 42: 'Dear Sefa'. Queen Guinevere writes a letter to her former maidservant. Enjoy!
1. Until the Last Breath Leaves My Body

Until The Last Breath Leaves My Body

_Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I have a lot of oneshots/ drabbles which I have written over the years so I should hopefully be able to update this fairly regularly. This collection will contain a variety of genres, including Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, and even a bit of Comedy. I hope you enjoy reading!_

_This chapter is set in Season 5, when Arthur is King._

_Disclaimer: The television show 'Merlin' does not belong to me, nor do any of the characters._

…

"I need a servant I can trust."

Merlin stared at him, completely floored. After all this time, all of the years he had served him, did Arthur still not trust him? He opened his mouth to argue, to prove to Arthur that he _could_ be trusted, but the King held up his hand for silence.

"I know I can trust you, Merlin." The servant gave an internal sigh of relief, but Arthur was still speaking, his sky-blue eyes fixated on Merlin's own.

"I also need a servant who can trust me."

Merlin tried to look away, but Arthur's eyes bored into his own, staring into the depths of his soul. He had room for only one thought in his head. _Arthur knew._

He wrenched his gaze away, frantically searching through his scattered thoughts for a plausible explanation – anything to keep him from being killed. He licked his dry lips, then swallowed.

"I…" He paused, peeking up into Arthur's face. The King watched him sombrely, a wary expression clouding his features, and Merlin's eyes flicked to the ground once more.

"Arthur, everything I've done…" He looked into his friend's face, his expression completely open for the first time in years. "It's all been for you." The King's eyes were filled with sadness and regret.

"Why, Merlin? Why practise magic?" Merlin looked into the face of the man who was like a brother to him, the man he had saved countless times, and repeated the words he had spoken to Arthur's father and uncle, the words that he would continue to speak because there was no other explanation he could give.

"I was born with it!" The words burst out of him, all the built-up pain and suffering of the past ten years overflowing as his cobalt eyes filled with tears.

"I was born with it", he repeated quietly. "I didn't choose it. I can't change who I am. But I have always protected you, Arthur. And I always will." The King was looking down, but Merlin caught him under the chin, forcing him to see the truth in his eyes.

"Until the last breath leaves my body."

….

_Hope you liked this! Please leave me a review if you have time and let me know what you thought. I am also open to prompts, so let me know if you have an idea you would like me to write about and I will see what I can do!_

_Camelotpointe_


	2. Disbelief

Disbelief

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

….

Arthur stared in complete bewilderment… astonishment… undeniable shock and horror. This could not be happening. This was just some… extremely strange and twisted dream, which he was hoping to wake up from very soon. He knew that it was a dream – it had to be – because it was inconceivable that Merlin could be… could be… No, it was impossible. It had to be a dream because there was no way that Merlin – his best friend, the man he trusted above all others – could be standing there, not seeing him, and acting like it was completely natural for him to be… to do… to…

Arthur frantically attempted to collect his scattered thoughts. What he was witnessing was something which was completely incomprehensible to him, and if he was going to make sense of it, he needed to question some long-held beliefs. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, hoping that when he opened them again the disturbing scene would have vanished. He cracked open one eye. No such luck.

The scene in front of him was inconceivable, completely appalling…

Merlin was kissing a girl.

…

_This one was really just for fun. I tried to make it seem as though Arthur had found out about Merlin's magic so that the twist at the end was funny. Please let me know what you thought!_


	3. Sleeveless

**Sleeveless**

_Just my account of why Percival doesn't have sleeves on his chainmail _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the show 'Merlin', it belongs to the BBC as do the characters in this story._

…_._

Sir Percival was King Arthur's strongest knight. He was tall as well as powerful and made quite an imposing figure in battle. The only one who could come close to him was Gwaine, but despite the shorter knight's incredible fitness and natural sword skills, he still could not best Percival for strength.

Many of the knights wondered why Percival didn't wear full chainmail. He was certainly strong enough, and it seemed strange that although he would barely notice the extra weight, he chose to go without sleeves. He was the only knight who did so; no matter how skilled the warrior, all except Percival wore full-body protection to prevent being caught off-guard and injured. The mail _could _be pierced, but it was extremely difficult to do so and even if it were penetrated it helped to lessen the damage inflicted.

Percival knew that many of the other knights questioned why he didn't wear sleeves and why he had his chainmail made as a vest, covering only his torso and shoulders. He knew that some of the more spiteful ones believed that he was simply stuck up about his large biceps, and whispered amongst themselves that someday he would be injured and then he might learn his lesson. But the truth was that, for all his strength and fearsome appearance, Percival had incredibly sensitive skin. Ever since he was a young boy, he had hated the feeling of fabric on his arms. It was scratchy and uncomfortable, and it restricted his movement. Now that he was a knight, he could afford finer material, but he still disliked having something covering his arms, and only wore sleeves when he was forced to by Arthur for formal occasions. The rest of the time he was quite happy to go without.

…_._

_Thanks for reading, hope you liked it!_


	4. Back To Life

**Back to Life**

_Hello, this one is a bit sad but I hope you like it. Has a few spoilers from Season 1 up to Season 5, Episode 3 (The Death Song of Uther Pendragon)._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the show 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

…

_Nobody seemed to stay dead in Camelot for long,_ Merlin thought idly as he rode along behind Arthur. They were on a routine patrol to some of the outlying villages, providing a welcome rest for the servant. All he had to do was sit on a horse and not fall asleep. Of course, he would probably have to ward off a bandit attack after which Arthur would call him a girl, but nothing untoward had happened so far and Merlin was enjoying the peace and tranquillity of the ride.

But back to his previous thought. Nobody did seem to stay dead once they had been killed. Tristan du Bois was brought back to life as a shade, as was Lancelot 5 years later. Arthur had almost died hundreds of times, although he had never actually been killed. Cornelius Sigan had returned in another body after being dead for hundreds of years. Merlin had restored Gaius to life after his mentor had been killed by Nimueh, and of course Uther had returned as a spirit to meddle in their lives and interfere with the way Arthur was ruling his kingdom.

Merlin's only regret over the years was that he had allowed himself to hope that Freya would come back, too.

…

_Please drop me a review if you have a spare moment. I am open to prompts._


	5. Alone: Gwen

**Alone: Gwen**

_This is part of my 'Alone' series, showing times when each of the characters felt alone. Takes place in Season 5 Episode 6, 'The Dark Tower'._

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

…

Gwen shivered, hugging herself tightly. It was cold in the Tower, and the tiny room in which she was imprisoned was completely dark – a stark contrast to the burning sun that had beat down upon her as she stumbled after Morgana to this awful place. She heard a noise and moved slowly backwards, afraid of what unknown terrors could be lurking in the dark chamber. Her cheek slapped against something cold and sticky and she let out a strangled shriek. Turning, she was able to make out a shrivelled root hanging from the ceiling. It was covered in what looked like mud, and the dark, viscous liquid dripped slowly onto the floor from the tip of the root.

Turning in a slow circle, she peered into the blackness. Shadows flickered at the edges of her vision, and she thought she was able to distinguish other roots hanging from the ceiling – but then, it could have been just her imagination.

There was no way to tell how large the chamber was, and the terrified queen was afraid to reach the walls, not sure what she would find there. Heart beating rapidly in her chest, she concentrated on returning her breathing to normal. The soft, familiar sound of the air quietly passing in and out of her lungs was comforting. It was the only noise in the dark room, and Guinevere whimpered as she thought of Arthur. He would be looking for her, she knew he would. She wished he were there with her now. But she also prayed that she could keep him far away from this terrible place, that he could remain safe. Shivering slightly, the Queen slid down to the ground and curled herself into a ball, hugging her knees tightly. She pressed her face into her knees and counted her breaths.

Guinevere's head snapped up and she looked around the room warily. She could have sworn she'd heard someone. There it was again! – a soft swishing sound like that made by a long cloak. Her heartbeat quickened as she peered into the darkness. A figure blossomed out of the darkness, his blonde hair tousled, cloak whispering across the floor.

"Arthur?" she whispered, hardly able to believe her eyes. Her hopes had been answered. Arthur was here! But as her husband came nearer she saw the twisted smirk which so closely resembled that of his sister. His opened his mouth and laughed cruelly. And she wished that he hadn't come for her.

….

_Hope you enjoyed this one – it's a bit angsty but I wanted to show how Gwen felt when she was locked up in the Tower. Please review and tell me what you think!_

_Camelotpointe_


	6. The Donkey

**The Donkey**

_Hello again! Thanks to all the people who have followed, favourited and reviewed this one-shot collection so far. This shot is another funny one, to contrast the previous chapter which was a bit darker._

_Disclaimer: Characters and the show 'Merlin' do not belong to me._

…_._

"Arthur, stop!" Merlin's hand shot out, grasping the Prince's arm to prevent him from releasing the arrow in his crossbow. Hearing his voice, the donkey's head snapped up and it galloped away. Arthur turned to his servant, infuriated.

"What on _earth_ was that for?" he demanded, oblivious to the other animals he was scaring off with his shouting. Merlin looked at him reprovingly.

"Well I could hardly let you kill it!" he exclaimed, staring at Arthur as though it were obvious.

"Why not?" The future King asked, exasperated. Merlin schooled his features into an expression of concern.

"Well, it's a donkey, sire", he pointed out. Arthur glared at him and Merlin hurried on. "You could be related. Arthur stared at him, completely taken aback by the turn of events and with a sneaking suspicion that he was missing some sort of joke.

"_Why_", he began, carefully enunciating each word. "Why would you _possibly_ think that I could be related to that donkey?" Merlin shrugged, his trademark grin flashing across his face.

"Well, we all know you're an ass."

…..

_Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it._


	7. Love and Loss Part 1

**Love and Loss Part 1:**

_Dialogue taken from S5 E2._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the show 'Merlin', or any of the characters._

…

"What happened to you, Morgana? As a child you were so kind, so compassionate." Arthur turned to face his half-sister, ignoring the dagger that hovered just inches from his throat. Morgana's mouth twisted into the cruel smirk that she had perfected over the years; the mask that kept anyone from viewing her true feelings.

"I grew up." Her eyes flashed golden, and the dagger flew towards her brother, piercing his borrowed armour and causing him to fall to the ground.

"You are right to cower before my hand." She raised her chin. "I am more powerful than you could ever imagine."

"And yet with all that, you choose to do nothing but hate." Morgana offered up a small, distorted smile, her conflicting emotions warring for dominance over her features.

"Uther taught me well."

…

_AN: Does anybody else feel sorry for Morgana? I feel like she was alone and afraid, especially after Morgause died, and she had to pretend to be strong because she had nobody to confide in – she had betrayed her friends and they all hated what she had become. I think her grief turned her mad. But maybe that's just me because in films and books I almost always feel sorry for the villain. I think something terrible must have happened to turn them into that person and to make them feel the need to inflict pain on other people just to shed a little of their own suffering._


	8. Love and Loss Part 2

**Love and Loss Part 2:**

_Morgana's reflections on all those whom she has loved… and lost._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show 'Merlin'._

…_.._

How could he say she felt only hate? She remembered her words to Merlin when she had captured and bound him in her hovel: _'Don't think I don't understand loyalty just because I have no-one left to be loyal to.'_ Everyone she had ever loved had been taken from her. Her father, Gorlois, had been killed in battle. She had broken Uther's spirit when she had shown her true loyalty to be with Morgause, her darling sister who had begged her to sacrifice her in order to secure Arthur's death; a plan that – like so many others intended to end Arthur's life – had failed. Morgause had died in vain, and when Morgana herself had ensured Uther's death she had felt only pain and sorrow at the passing of the man who had been almost like a father to her – until she found out that he was.

Arthur was as dead to her as he would be if Mordred's final strike had found its aim, and Mordred himself was dead by the king's hand. She had felt a strong connection to the druid boy the moment she first saw him, and this final loss had cut her deeply, joining the hundreds of other scars that had been carved into her heart. Yes, she had loved… and lost. She knew much more about love than anyone could ever expect her to.

….

_Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please drop me a review to let me know what you think._


	9. Death Song Interrupted

**Death Song Interrupted**

_This was inspired by Season 5 Episode 3, 'The Death Song of Uther Pendragon', so there are some spoilers for that episode._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the show 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

…_._

"Merlin has m-" The past King was drowned out by the sound of a horn. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth in a silent scream of rage as he was sent back to the spirit world. Arthur lowered the Horn of Cathbhadh from his lips, hands shaking slightly as he stared at the spot where his father's ghost had stood mere moments ago.

Merlin remained frozen in place, also watching the place where Uther had vanished, taking with him the warlock's greatest secret. He exhaled suddenly, his body relaxing into the wall behind him. Arthur pocketed the horn, striding forwards to help his friend. He reached out a hand and Merlin took it, allowing Arthur to pull him away from the wall and the spears which had trapped him.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, dropping his servant's hand. Merlin nodded mutely.

"What was he trying to say you had?" The King asked curiously. Merlin's shoulders stiffened slightly, but he cocked his head to one side in a good imitation of confusion.

"Probably that I've manipulated you into doing things differently to how he did them", he replied casually, trying not to show his anxiety.

"You know that's not true", Arthur stated, watching his friend closely. "Right?" Merlin nodded again, but the King was not convinced. He bit his lip in thought.

"Merlin?" he pressed. The servant looked up, a questioning expression on his face. "I'm sorry", Arthur said solemnly. "I should have listened to you sooner." Merlin looked at the ground, embarrassed, then looked back up at Arthur, a cheeky grin playing around the corners of his mouth.

"Does this mean that you're _actually _admitting that I was right?" he asked. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Don't let it go to your head, will you; most of the time you're a complete idiot."

…_.._

_Hope you liked the chapter! I thought it was kind of strange that Arthur never asked what Uther was trying to say, so I wrote this._


	10. Burn

**Burn**

_Hello! Sorry about my long absence from this site, I've had a lot going on. However, I have holidays starting in a few days so should hopefully be updating more frequently._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin' or any characters._

…_.._

The flames leapt higher, smoke rising from the crackling fire in curling tendrils of grey. The orange flames licked at pale flesh, roasting it, browning it. The dark-haired young man stared emotionlessly through the flames rising before him, his gaze locked on the blonde king. Arthur had turned away from the crackling fire, his shoulders hunched as though the sense of pain and failure he carried was a physical burden. He had failed his people – had failed to protect them. He had allowed sorcery into his kingdom.

Merlin knew what the King was thinking. He understood the agony that Arthur was putting himself through, because nothing was more important to Arthur than protecting his people. Morgana had recently attacked Camelot yet again, strengthening Arthur's distrust of magic and all who used it. Despite the witch's desire to end the persecution of those with magic, Merlin knew that with every attempt she made to gain power, the King was pushed further and further from embracing magic-users.

The manservant stared at the King through the flames, as the rabbit slowly roasted over their campfire.

…_._

_AN: Did you enjoy the twist? What did you think was happening at the beginning? I tried to write it so it seemed as though Arthur was having Merlin burned on the pyre and couldn't bear to watch, but one of my friends read it and said she thought it sounded like the citadel was burning – until she found out that it was actually just the rabbit. Please let me know what you thought, and remember I am open to __prompts, so if you want to send me any ideas feel free to do so! Camelotpointe._


	11. Agravaine is Aggravated

**Agravaine is Aggravated**

_First part of a double drabble/short story thing. Part 2 will be Agravaine is Aggravating!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the show 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

…

Agravaine was aggravated. He had threatened his own safety countless times in order to obey Morgana's wishes, was plotting to kill his sister's only son, and was the witch's most faithful supporter and valuable spy. If he were discovered, he would be sentenced to death for treason. And yet, despite everything that he did for her, Morgana treated him as though he were nothing more than a common farm animal.

The Lady was nearly half his age and still he felt the irresistible temptation of her bewitching personality. She was intelligent and driven, confident and ruthless… all qualities which Agravaine valued highly. He regarded her with a great deal of respect, as well as awe and slight fear, and wished that she would value him as he valued her. Morgana was as cold as ice, distant as the moon, friendless as the last dragon. Agravaine prided himself on being the Lady's sole confidante, and her most trusted ally, but still he was afraid of the power she wielded.

He would never reveal to Morgana his discontent with the way she treated him. He would bide his time, and hope that someday she would show appreciation for his efforts.

….

_Hope you liked this chapter! I'm not a fan of Agravaine myself – I think he's quite a weak character – but this popped into my head so I wrote it. Next chapter will be 'Agravaine is Aggravating'._


	12. Agravaine is Aggravating

**Agravaine is Aggravating**

_Here is part 2 – Agravaine is Aggravating – which shows Morgana's perceptions of her Uncle. Hope you like it!_

_Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the show 'Merlin' below to me. Contains some minor spoilers up to Season 4._

…..

She turned her face towards him, dark eyes glowing as she pressed her lips to his ear.

"You must help me find this Emrys", she whispered. "And destroy him."

Agravaine stared back at her, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He nodded in silent consent – skin creasing into a double chin as he did so – then turned and left the hovel, his black cloak swishing about his feet.

Morgana spat on the floor, desperate to remove Agravaine's scent from her lips. She hated the hovel that she was forced to live in, and despised the weak old man who was, as yet, her only ally. He was afraid of her, she knew that – afraid of her powers, both magical and mental, and afraid of her strength. It was helpful to have a spy within Camelot's walls, but she knew that she had been a far better one when she had been the traitor. Even now, Emrys had thwarted her plans and Agravaine had allowed Arthur to return to Camelot unscathed. Her 'Uncle' was loyal and desperate to please her, but she knew that the motivating factor for his allegiance was his fear of her.

She had modelled their relationship on that which Morgause had built with King Cenred – flattering him, melding him to do her bidding. She suspected that Agravaine wanted a closer relationship, but the idea of further intimacy with the older man repulsed her. Cenred and Morgause were both dead now – Cenred by Morgause's hand and Morgause by Morgana's own – and Morgana had certainly considered what she would do with Agravaine once she had taken her rightful place on the throne of Camelot. Once she was in position as Queen, she would have no further use for her half-brother's Uncle, but despite her dislike for him she did not necessarily want to kill him. Killing had never been her aim; her goal was to ensure freedom for magic users by taking the throne she had been destined for. She had considered, recently, affording the man a small town at the edge of Camelot over which he could preside. That way, he would still feel that he was valued and she would not have to maintain the pretence that she liked him. Hopefully she would see very little of him after this. But first, she needed to take Camelot. And to do this, as she reluctantly admitted to herself, she needed an ally.

…


	13. I Was Dying

"**I was dying."**

_This one is quite long compared to the others in this collection. It is based off of 'The Tears of Uther Pendragon – Part 2' and the conversation Merlin and Arthur have when Merlin gets back to Camelot after being stung by a Serket. Some of the dialogue is taken from the episode._

_Disclaimer: The television show 'Merlin', the episode 'The Tears of Uther Pendragon' and the characters from the show below to the BBC, not to me._

….

"What if I was dying?" he asked.

"I wouldn't be complaining!" the prince exclaimed angrily. "But you're not, so what's your excuse?"

"I _was_ dying", Merlin said honestly. He didn't suppose Arthur would believe him – if his servant had been dying Arthur would expect to have heard about it from Gaius, and Merlin knew that the physician hadn't told the prince anything about where he had been or why he had gone. But Arthur could tell when his friend was telling the truth, and Merlin's face had been completely open.

"What?" The prince demanded. Merlin looked up, surprised.

"You believe me?" he asked.

"Sadly your lack of wit has educated me of the possibility that you could do something stupid and get yourself killed", Arthur said drily. "Yes, I believe you." There was a pause. "So", the prince said, attempting to keep his expression neutral, "what happened?"

Merlin paused, unsure of how much he should tell Arthur. Morgana was like a sister to the prince, and although he was not as blind to her faults as Uther was, he would not accept that somebody he trusted so completely could be conspiring against him.

"I was in the forest", he began.

"Why?" Arthur interrupted immediately.

"I followed someone", Merlin admitted, hoping that his friend wouldn't ask who. It would be much easier if his attackers could remain anonymous, as he was certain that Arthur would not take kindly to his news that Morgana had betrayed them.

"Who?" the prince asked. Merlin didn't reply.

"_Merlin_", Arthur said warningly. Merlin bit his lip, looking down at the floor.

"The Lady Morgana", he admitted quietly. Arthur cuffed his servant around the neck.

"Merlin, what have I told you about Morgana?" he asked. "My father would have your head if he knew you were courting her!"

"What – I – Arthur, I'm not courting Morgana!" Merlin insisted, shocked at how the prince could have come to this conclusion. "I followed her because I saw her sneaking out of the castle. I saw Morgause." Arthur froze at the mention of the enchantress who had tried to make him kill his own father.

"Morgana called her 'sister'", Merlin added. "Arthur, they are the ones responsible for your father's sickness! They enchanted a mandrake root and placed it under his bed. It is the cause of his visions!" Arthur remained silent, his thoughts swirling meaninglessly.

"On what grounds do you base these accusations?" he asked finally, his voice hollow.

"Arthur, I _saw_ them", Merlin said, leaning forwards imploringly. "The mandrake root was under your father's bed; Gaius and I found and destroyed it." Arthur shook his head, still shocked.

"She's always been like a sister to me", he mused quietly. He took a deep breath, then looked up at Merlin. "My father has recovered, then?" he asked. He was careful to keep his tone expressionless, but Merlin could see the hope in his eyes. Arthur was becoming wiser, more mature, and he would be a great King someday but Merlin knew that now the prince needed his father. He needed Uther to be well again so that he had somebody to rely upon, and didn't have to carry the burden of running a kingdom and preparing for a siege.

"He will recover", Merlin said gently. "For now, Gaius says that he needs to rest. The enchantment is broken but he may still suffer after-effects for some days." Arthur nodded.

"Thank you, Merlin", he said, a clear dismissal. Merlin nodded and turned to leave.

"Merlin", Arthur said. The servant turned back, a questioning look on his face.

"Are you alright?" the prince asked. Merlin's mouth spread into a grin.

"I'm fine", he answered.

"You said you were dying", Arthur pressed. Merlin's smile disappeared. Arthur swallowed. "Did Morgana do that to you?" he asked. The two men stared at each other for a long moment.

"It was Morgause", Merlin said finally. "Morgana knew that I was following her, and they bound me with chains."

"They tried to kill you?" Arthur asked.

"The forest was crawling with Serkets", Merlin replied dully. "They left me for them to finish off." Arthur could not disguise his horror. He had never seen the beasts, but he had heard stories about them and his father had warned him never to attempt conflict with one of the creatures. Their main offensive weapon was a huge sting coated in deadly poison, and he didn't know what other powers they possessed.

"How did you escape?" the prince asked, fully aware of the fact that this time Merlin was the one who had faced a dangerous beast and lived to tell the tale. Merlin blinked.

"I don't know", he replied, trying to stay close to the truth without revealing his dragon lord heritage. "I was stung by one of the Serkets and… I passed out… and when I woke up I was in the forest near Camelot. Someone had helped me, but I don't know who it could have been."

"A Druid, perhaps?" the prince suggested curiously. Merlin shrugged.

"Possibly. I felt better, so I got up and walked back."

"Completely healed?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Well…" Merlin trailed off, his thoughts travelling to the aching pain which he could still feel in his shoulder. "Pretty much", he said eventually. Arthur nodded, pensive. Merlin stood awkwardly, waiting for the prince to say something. When he didn't the servant cautiously turned, gathering up some of the clothing strewn across the dirty floorboards and moving towards the door.

"Merlin", Arthur called after him. He turned back, a questioning glance shaping his pale features. "Take some time off", Arthur told him. "Go get some rest." The servant hesitated for a moment, surprised at the prince's offer, then nodded, a smile growing over his tired face.

"Thank you, Arthur."

…

_When I watched the episode, I wondered what would happen if Arthur actually believed Merlin when the servant said that he had been dying. I thought about it, and this story was born. Please let me know what you thought of it._


	14. Dealing With Prats

**Dealing with Prats**

_This is a fairly light-hearted story and is set early in the first season, soon after Merlin has become Arthur's manservant. Hope you enjoy it!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from 'Merlin', nor do I own the show itself. All I own are my ideas._

…

"Merlin, did you get_ any _sleep last night?" Arthur asked, annoyed at his manservant's hopeless lack of awareness. He had been giving the scrawny man a list of chores – polish my armour, sharpen my sword, clean my boots, muck out my stables, etc, etc, etc – only to look up and realise that Merlin had been paying no attention to what he had been saying and instead was staring into space like an idiot. Hence the question of whether or not his servant had slept at all the night before, because if he had he would need a very good excuse for his lethargic attitude and complete lack of attentiveness.

"No, I didn't", Merlin cried, irritated. Arthur threw his hands up in exasperation.

"The reason I didn't get any sleep is because I was up all night polishing your armour… washing your clothes… _mending_ your clothes…" The servant trailed off, realising that his excuses weren't going anywhere with that prat of a prince. Arthur stood with his arms folded across his chest, and seemed relatively unimpressed by his servant's tale of woe. Merlin held the prince's doubtful gaze, neither man blinking or turning away. Finally, Merlin tore his eyes away from Arthur's and walked over to collect the young prince's clothes, which were in desperate need of a good wash.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. Merlin turned, arms full of dirty laundry, and Arthur threw a heavily embroidered jacket with expert aim, landing it right on the gangly man's head.

"That needs to be mended", Arthur informed his servant, struggling not to grin and failing miserably. Merlin looked considerably disgruntled, but meekly tugged the jacket off of his head and added it to the pile of clothing in his arms. He turned stiffly and walked towards the door.

"Oh, and Merlin", Arthur called after the dark-haired man. "Seeing as you polished my armour last night, you won't have to do it again until _after _this morning's training session!" Merlin smiled sarcastically at the prince before exiting the room. Arthur sank down onto his newly-made bed, grinning. Having Merlin as a manservant was turning out to be a lot of fun.

…..

_I think Arthur enjoyed making Merlin do as many chores as he could think up! But the two had a really good friendship which was developed well over the seasons and I think that was one of the strongest points of the show._


	15. Eyebrows

**Eyebrows**

_Just a little contemplation of Gaius' extremely expressive eyebrows._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…

_You could do a lot of things with eyebrows_, Merlin thought idly as he watched the clouds float across the pale blue sky. _Or, at least, you could if you had the knack._ He had been Gaius' apprentice long enough to have seen hundreds of the physician's eyebrow quirks, and was still frequently taken by surprise by the way his mentor managed to add a new meaning to the motion for any occasion.

The eyebrows could register surprise, shock, anxiety, astonishment, admonition, disbelief, sadness, anger, disappointment, hope and any other expression or thought Gaius wanted them to. Merlin had seen the eyebrows raise in alarm, contract in worry or when the physician was concentrating hard, arch eloquently when he suspected he was being lied to….. there was just no end to what those eyebrows could do.

It was mainly the left eyebrow that rose, shooting upwards immediately whenever it sensed something was wrong. Merlin had a grudging respect for that eyebrow. It could convey more expression than Arthur's entire face, and almost rivalled Merlin's _eyes,_ which were both a blessing and a curse. For goodness sake, how could one eyebrow make so much of an impression?


	16. I'm Fine

"I'm fine"

_A slightly depressing drabble about Merlin's internal struggles. For anyone who doesn't know, a drabble must be exactly 100 words._

_Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. I own only the stories._

…_._

"Is something wrong?" The King asked.

"_Is something wrong?_" He gave a short, bitter laugh. "You're blind, aren't you. You see nothing!"

"_Merlin_. I'm your friend."

"You're my friend", the servant echoed. "But…" _Something is tearing me apart inside and you don't see it, do you? Smile, Merlin. Don't let them in, don't let them see. Smile!_

"But what?" Arthur asked desperately, scared at the change in his usually cheerful friend. Merlin hesitated for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again. His gaze dropped down, avoiding Arthur's eyes as they sought his own.

"Nothing. I'm fine." _Help me._

…_.._

_A bit sad, but I hope you liked it._


	17. Don't Be Such A Girl!

**Don't Be Such A Girl!**

_Arthur calls Merlin a girl once again. Percival helps Merlin get even. Set soon after the Season 3 finale._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…

The dark-haired man tripped and was sent sprawling onto the ground. Arthur grinned triumphantly, plunging his sword into the earth.

"Is it over?" Merlin asked, grimacing.

"Don't be such a _girl_, Merlin", Arthur sighed with an exaggerated air of martyrdom. He helped the manservant to his feet, then looked over at the knights and grinned.

"Percival", he called, waving him over. The tall knight grasped his sword and strode across the training ground to where Arthur and Merlin stood. The king nodded at the knight, stepping back to allow him room to practise.

Percival grinned reassuringly at Merlin, who grinned back. The knight raised his sword and brought it down heavily on the shield Merlin held. The scrawny servant stumbled but kept his footing, and Percival winked at him as he deliberately swung too high, allowing Merlin to duck under the blow. Merlin lashed out with his blunted sword – not at Percival, but at Arthur, who grunted as the blade struck his chainmail. The King doubled over in pain and stumbled back a few steps before glaring up at his servant.

"_Merlin_!" he growled menacingly. Merlin grinned at him.

"Come on Arthur; don't be such a girl!"

….

_Just a light-hearted, funny little one-shot to follow the previous sad drabble. Please let me know what you thought!_


	18. Stealing Dresses

**Stealing Dresses**

_Set during Season 5. Arthur catches Merlin looking at dresses again._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'. If I did I would have liked Season 5 much better._

…

"Merlin."

Merlin spun around, hugging the dress to himself defensively. Arthur simply stared at him, the hint of a grin flickering about the corners of his mouth.

"I'm sure you have a very reasonable explanation for this."

"Yes." Merlin agreed. Arthur cocked an eyebrow quizzically. Merlin grinned at him hopefully, trying to look innocent.

"Which is?" Arthur pressed. Merlin's face fell.

"Erm, well… it's Gwen", he declared, with a flash of genius. Arthur's expression immediately changed to one of concern and anxiety.

"Is she alright?" he asked worriedly.

"She's fine", Merlin said, desperate to remedy his mistake. The point of bringing up Gwen was to provide a reasonable explanation for why he was looking through her dresses, not to get Arthur all concerned for no reason. "She got mud – on her dress – and asked me to fetch her another one."

"Really?" Arthur asked, his tone coloured with disbelief.

"Yes!" Merlin insisted, struggling to maintain his façade of innocent idiocy. He looked down at the dress he was holding. "This should be fine." He looked back up at Arthur, who was still staring at him strangely.

"I'd better go." Merlin turned and quickly made his way towards the door.

"Merlin!"

Merlin turned to face Arthur, an anxious expression on his face. Arthur pulled a deep blue dress from the cupboard and looked at it critically.

"Here." Arthur tossed the dress to Merlin, who deftly caught it and looked up at the King, puzzled.

"Matches your eyes", Arthur said with a grin. Cheeks burning, Merlin turned and ducked out of the room.

…

_Poor Merlin is always getting teased for being like a girl! His being caught with dresses certainly doesn't help._


	19. Exhausted

_Hello again! This chapter has six short stories – one each for Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana, Gaius and Uther – based on exhaustion. They are set sometime between Seasons 4 and 5, so there are some spoilers up to the end of Season 4._

_Disclaimer: The characters and the show aren't mine – they belong to the BBC._

…_._

Merlin was exhausted. Day after day he rose early to be ready for work and spent the whole day running from one place to another. If he wasn't doing things for Arthur he was doing chores for Gaius, and during the rare moments when he wasn't running errands he was busy saving Arthur's life. It seemed that either Arthur or Camelot was being attacked every second day and he was so _tired_ of saving the entire kingdom, all the while concealing who he really was because if anyone knew he could be killed.

There was only one thing to do in these situations. Merlin dragged his weary body into bed and promptly fell asleep.

…..

Gwen was exhausted. Now that she was Queen the whole of Camelot looked up to and respected her. They all relied upon her to provide support – for Arthur and the entire kingdom. Poor Gwen was doing her best, but being looked upon as the answer to all problems was daunting and she almost wished for the days when she was just a serving girl.

Gwen buried her face in her hands, trying to compose herself. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Arthur smiling down at her. She smiled back and felt her worries slip away as he embraced her.

…..

Arthur was exhausted. Attacks on Camelot were frequent and day after day he rode out into danger with the knights, not knowing if he would see his loved ones again. His heart ached for Guinevere and he knew she missed him, although she never said anything. He had noticed her tiredness, and distress when her duties seemed too hard to bear. He had seen her willingness to help others in the thousands of small tasks performed by gentle hands, and he had never felt prouder of his new Queen.

So when he found her with her face buried in her hands he reached out to comfort her, smiling down at the woman he loved. She looked up at him with the most beautiful smile in the world and he pulled her close, savouring the moment.

…..

Gaius was exhausted. Day after day he rose at the crack of dawn and worked tirelessly until he collapsed into bed that night. His days were spent picking herbs, mixing medicines and compounds and tending to the sick. He was frequently asked for advice from Merlin and Arthur – who seemed to think he possessed the knowledge of the world – and occasionally used his powers to save Albion.

Gaius was an old man; he was nearly seventy and all of his demands sometimes seemed too much. He got slowly to his feet and walked over to the shelf where he kept his potions. He uncorked a bottle of rheumatism tonic and poured a small amount into a vial, then gulped it down, turned and began mixing a remedy for fever.

…..

Morgana was exhausted. She was tired of coming up with new plans to attack Camelot and new ways to kill Arthur. He had been within her grasp dozens of times and had somehow always managed to escape. She was sick of it. She was sick of living rough, of being persecuted and feared for something she couldn't control. She was sick of the armies, thousands of men she had hired simply to put an end to Arthur's reign and, ultimately, his life. None had succeeded, and she had almost given up hope that they ever would.

Morgana shook her head and her eyes opened wide in surprise and shock. No. What was she thinking? She must begin a new plan at once!

…..

Uther was exhausted. He was dead, and had thought that death would be peaceful. But watching day by day as his daughter attempted to kill his son had worn his nerves almost to breaking point. And Morgana wasn't the only one who had fallen out of grace with the dead king. She had used witchcraft to try to kill her brother, but the said brother had abolished almost all of Camelot's (and Uther's) traditions and customs. Arthur had allowed commoners to become knights; he had married a serving girl and his most trusted advisor was his own servant.

Uther sighed as Morgana began yet another plan to kill Arthur. He wondered why he hadn't killed them both when he was still alive.

….

_Hope you liked this chapter! As always, please review and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading!_


	20. Something Off

**Something Off:**

_Another humorous one. Hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

…

Merlin rubbed his head, confused. Something was off and he couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was. Nothing had gone wrong – on the contrary, things had been going well. Arthur had been unusually lenient with his chores and Gaius, too, seemed to be making an effort to go easy on him. The servant was grateful for this – although it did feel odd – but it wasn't the thing that was bothering him and he didn't know what it could be.

They hadn't been troubled by Morgana. Arthur (well, Merlin really) hadn't had to kill any magical creatures wreaking havoc – heck, they hadn't even had one bandit attack in almost a month! So what was it that was off?

Merlin slapped his forehead with the palm of his head. Of course! _That_ was it!

Nobody had tried to kill him or Arthur for over a week. What was wrong with the world?

…

_There's always a plot afoot! I think Merlin would be slightly unnerved if he went for over a week without having to face any threats to Arthur, himself and/or Camelot._


	21. Rolling the Dice

Rolling the Dice:

_Thank you for all of the lovely reviews I have been receiving. They make me smile and motivate me to continue writing._

_Disclaimer: all recognisable characters below to the BBC, as does the show 'Merlin'._

…_._

It was a well-known fact among all of Camelot's guards that guarding the prison cells was the most boring job there was. Occasionally there would be a small-scale attack by a group of bandits, or some poor person accused of sorcery would spend a few days in a cell before being publicly executed, but for the most part, standing watch outside the dungeons was a complete bore. Camelot's prison had been built so that it was virtually indestructible, and nobody could escape without outside help.

Unfortunately, many of the people who were held captive in the cells _did_ seem to have outside help, and there had been a number of breakouts – the most notable being the young Druid boy who had fled with the aid of no less than the Lady Morgana, the King's ward. However, instances such as this were few and far between, so – for the most part – the guards on duty outside the dungeons would play dice to pass the time.

It was a simple enough game; each would take turns to call out a number and then roll the die. If the die landed on that number, they would win whatever meagre amount of money the other had put forwards. There was a great deal of bitterness amongst the guards due to their pay being so much less than that of the knights, but none dared to question Uther's judgement – or at least, not to his face. So the guards would gamble away their earnings during the long hours spent sitting outside the dungeons, rolling the die over and over, money exchanging hands hundreds of times as they won it back from each other, until they each had almost the same amount of money that they had started with. It was a boring job, guarding Camelot's prison.

…_._

_This is another idea which popped into my head and asked to be written down. I think it was prompted by the numerous times in earlier seasons when Merlin used to sneak down past the dungeons and the guards always seemed to be just sitting there playing dice. I hope you liked it._

_Camelotpointe._


	22. A Lost Love

**A Lost Love:**

_This is part of a series of short one-shots dedicated to each character, some of which are humorous, while others are sad. I wrote these to give a bit more depth to some of the characters which I felt could have been developed a little more. This chapter is devoted to Leon. Hope you enjoy!_

…

He knelt on the cold stone floor, not caring for the rough surface that bit into his knees and turned his legs numb. It had happened here, in this very spot. This was where she had died.

The corridor had been cleaned by the maids, and the casualties taken away, but he didn't know what had become of her body. He slumped against the wall, tears brimming in his eyes. He didn't want to see the others. He had passed them earlier, but kept his distance. None of them knew what to say, how to make things better, and he didn't want to hear their kind, well-meant words, each one that was like a dagger in his heart. He ran his hands along the floor, pausing when he felt something sharp beneath his fingertips. He grasped the point and pulled it from where it was stuck in the tiny crevice between the wall and the floor, then turned his hand over so that he could see it.

It was an arrowhead. Small and sharp, it rested gently in his palm, the coolness of it creating a tingling sensation that spread across his hand. He stroked it gently. It was smooth to the touch, the design almost flawless. He closed his hand over the arrowhead and slipped it into his pocket. He would keep it, as a talisman.

"Leon?" He looked up to see Gwaine standing before him, Percival and Elyan slightly behind the dark haired knight. "We have something for you." Elyan stepped forward and held out a crossbow. The design was flawless, the balance perfect. Leon smiled at his friends as he took the gift.

…_.._

_So… This one started out quite sad, but I didn't want it to have such an unhappy ending. Hopefully you understood the twist at the end – it wasn't actually a woman who had died; it was Leon's favourite crossbow that had been 'killed' (destroyed) in a battle. I got the idea from 'A Servant of Two Masters' (which is actually one of my favourite episodes) when Merlin was asking Leon about a crossbow to kill Arthur and Leon was saying how beautiful the crossbow was._

_If there are any characters you feel were underdeveloped and whom you would like me to dedicate a chapter to, please let me know and I will write one! Thanks for reading!_


	23. A New Beginning

**A New Beginning**

_This chapter centres on Elyan, another character who I felt could have been developed more in the show. It is set between Season 3 and Season 4._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the show 'Merlin' or the character Elyan._

…_._

Elyan loved the forge. He loved the heat; the heavy, cloying scent of different metals; the old tools, each one a friend, that fitted perfectly into his hand. His father had used the same tools for years, but they were still in near-perfect condition thanks to the love and care he had bestowed upon them. Walking into his father's old workshop he could almost believe that Tom himself would walk out and begin shaping armour, melding steel into swords or making horse-shoes.

He had inherited his father's skill with metals, and loved how something could be so strong yet so fluid. He was always filled with awe to see old pieces of armour, covered with scratches and dented in places, be melted down and formed into something new.

He had always wished that he could do the same with his life; get rid of his mistakes and the dents in his pride and start over new, stronger, better. And that was what he had done at Camelot. He was back where he had lived as a child, near his sister, and with a Crown Prince who was fair, just and good, who valued others and did not judge according to rank.

When Arthur knighted him, he knew that he had done it. He had started over new, become a better person, and he would protect Camelot with his life.

…..

_Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you thought or if you have a character you would like me to write a one-shot about._


	24. Protector

**Protector**

_Hi everyone! This one-shot is a request from Aaronna, who asked for a story with Percival as the focus. It is based on Season 4, Episode 1 'The Darkest Hour', so dialogue has been taken from there and there are some minor spoilers for that episode – nothing major though. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the show 'Merlin', the characters in the show, or the episode 'The Darkest Hour' from which some dialogue has been borrowed._

_Hope you like it!_

…_._

He turned back, raising his torch to show him the way in the darkness. The noise came again, a soft whimpering sound that seemed to be coming from behind a few barrels. He walked forward cautiously, holding the torch aloft in front of him. As he walked towards the source of the sound, a small child was suddenly thrown into the light. Sitting quite calmly, cross-legged on the ground, she looked up at the knight with large eyes.

"Hey, hey", he said softly, advancing slowly so as not to frighten her. "It's alright. You'll be alright." As he leaned forward his torch cast light on the surrounding area, revealing two more children hiding behind the barrels. He bit his lip, considering the possibilities. The children stared up at him anxiously, as if waiting to see what he would do. He looked at the torch in his hand, raising his eyebrows as a crazy idea came into his mind…

A moment later he was running along the street, the children gathered into his well-muscled arms. He paused and hefted them up higher, not wanting them to slip, then took off again, his back hunched to stop anything from getting to the children. He heard the unmistakable screams of the Dorocha behind him and sped up, but it was difficult to run whilst carrying three children and he could hear the Dorocha's shrieks nearing. As he felt the rush of cold air that preceded the spirits' arrival, he felt a sense of dread fill him. His feet lagged, but still he tried to run. He had to save the children. He didn't care if he died, so long as the children were safe.

As the Dorocha's shrieks sounded right next to him he was certain that he would die, but no pain came. A bright flare of light shone behind him, and he turned to see Elyan fending off the spirits with a flaming torch. With a final screech, the Dorocha fled, blending back into the night sky.

Scarcely a minute later, the peasants crowded into one house jumped as someone banged on the door. The door was flung open to reveal two of the knights of Camelot, Sir Percival and Sir Elyan, carrying three small children. With cries of thankfulness the mothers sprang up from their places around the fire. The knights handed the children to their mothers who grasped them tightly, kissing them and murmuring comforting words into their hair. Elyan grinned at Percival, who raised an eyebrow at the dark-haired knight.

"Thanks", he said casually, as if Elyan hadn't just saved his life. Elyan smiled knowingly.

"Couldn't let you have all the glory now, could I?" he asked. Percival just grinned.

…

_Hope you liked this one! If you have any requests for a one-shot based on a particular character/ characters, please send them to me. I hope everybody has a safe and happy Christmas with family and friends._

_Love Camelotpointe._


	25. Merlin's Mistake

**Merlin's Mistake**

_Hello to all of my lovely readers! Here is a (slightly angsty) drabble for your enjoyment._

_Disclaimer: 'Merlin' doesn't belong to me._

…_._

"What… are you…" Arthur paused, trying to think of the right words to express what he was feeling. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

Merlin stared at him for a long moment, his expression inscrutable, before turning away.

"I wish I knew", he whispered, his words a mere breath.

"Arthur." Merlin looked up from where he had been making the King's bed. He looked scared, young and vulnerable, and despite himself, Arthur felt his heart ache for the young man before him.

"Arthur", Merlin said again, "What are you going to do to me?"

….

_Hope you liked this! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, favourited and/ or read my stories._


	26. Gwaine's True Love

**Gwaine's True Love**

_The first two lines of dialogue in this story are taken from Season 5, Episode 6 'The Dark Tower', where Gwen jokes about Gwaine being in love with himself. Whilst watching the episode, I thought 'What if Gwaine had been in love once, and has never forgotten the girl?'. This short story is the result. I hope you all enjoy it and that everybody reading has a wonderful Christmas!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

….

"Do you know who Gwaine's in love with?" Elyan asked teasingly.

"Himself", the Queen said without hesitation, glancing back at Gwaine with a playful grin. The knights laughed and Gwaine forced a smile, but his heart wasn't in it.

He knew that his friends thought that he was a flirt, incapable of being involved in a serious relationship, but that wasn't true. The reason he was such a flirt was because he was _afraid_ of being involved in something serious. He had tried that kind of relationship before, and it had only ended in heartbreak.

That was when he had started drinking; to forget the pain that the loss of his one and only real love had caused him. They had been engaged. They had been in love. And she had died.

Her name was Eleanora, and she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her hair was long and fair, cascading in soft ripples down her back, and it glowed in the sun like finely spun gold. Her eyes were wide, a bright, emerald green that danced when she laughed, and her eyelashes were long and soft on his cheek. She had a tinkling, silvery laugh, which automatically made people smile and look up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person the sound had come from. She was bubbly and bright, endlessly cheerful, and everything about her seemed to sparkle with life and love and happiness.

It had been the plague. She had gone home to visit her family, and found her younger sister Emilie terribly ill. She would not accept that she was in danger, and did everything she could to help her family. The one thing Gwaine was glad of was that, when Emilie finally passed, Nora was too sick to realise.

When she had contact with her family she had been quarantined with them. A large red cross was painted on the door, warning people of the plague, and he hadn't been allowed to see her. When he heard that she had died, he didn't believe it. He had rushed to the house, hoping that it wasn't true, but her mother at the window, tears running down her cheeks, gave him the confirmation he so desperately wanted to be untrue. They wouldn't even let him in for a last glimpse of her. Oh, he had seen the body, when they carried it out to be taken away on the cart. Her beautiful hair was tangled and unkept, and her eyes stared vacantly upwards, igniting an even greater sense of fury and loss in the young man. They hadn't even had the _decency_ to close her eyes.

He looked at her and felt shock, and disbelief, and a deep, aching sadness that echoed through his body, making him long for death. She had been so full of life; he couldn't believe that she had died.

There was no point staying after that. Eleanora was dead, and he had no living relatives, save for his older sister whom he hated and who was living far away. So he had ridden off, on the horse that he had taken her for rides on. He stopped at the first tavern he came to and drank until his chest burned and the ache had dulled a little. He drank and drank, anything to ease the pain that throbbed within him like a pulse, and after he had drank more than he ever had in his life he stumbled out of the tavern and passed out in the stable.

He never forgot her. That was part of the reason he never had serious relationships with women. It was the reason he wandered so much, trying to escape from his own pain. By the time he met Merlin and Arthur and came to live in Camelot, the pain had lessened. He still felt the sorrow that Eleanora's death had caused him but it was duller, and he was able to enjoy life in spite of what he had lost. In Camelot, he had a purpose. He didn't need to pretend, to act like he wanted a serious relationship. As a knight, he wasn't expected to. He could flirt as much as he liked, but nobody cared that he didn't mean anything by it. His heart belonged to someone else, even if she was long gone.

He would never forget her. And when he took his last breath, he knew that she would be waiting for him on the other side.

…

_Merry Christmas everybody! Hope you enjoyed this chapter._


	27. Merlin's Malady

**Merlin's Malady**

_Hi everyone! Hope you all had a lovely Christmas. This is a companion piece to my drabble 'Merlin's Mistake', suggested by Aaronna. Thanks for your suggestion and I hope you like it!_

_Summary: Something's wrong with Merlin and neither he nor Arthur know how to handle it._

…_.._

Thinking back, it was probably something to do with the most recent sorcerer Merlin had defeated. After following the man into the forest and attempting (unsuccessfully) to talk him out of an assassination attempt on Arthur, Merlin had been forced to engage in a magical battle with the other man, sending small woodland animals scurrying away in fright at the fierce display of magic. Although Merlin had ultimately triumphed, one of the sorcerer's spells had reached its aim – a narrow jet of green light struck the warlock squarely in the chest, leaving him a little winded but otherwise feeling unaffected. Perhaps he should have had Gaius check him for any further manifestations of the spell's effects, but it had seemed of little consequence.

Although he _thought_ the spell was the most likely cause of the incident in Arthur's chambers, it realistically could have been one of several other reasons. Arthur's food, for one, which Merlin always tasted before serving to the King. Arthur would probably not appreciate it if he knew that the servant was eating _his_ food, but a few months ago it had been laced with poison and Merlin could not take the risk of Arthur being killed – it was much better that he taste the food first. But considering that Arthur had seemed perfectly fine after eating the food that morning, Merlin thought it was unlikely to have caused his own problem.

An illness in the village, perhaps? Merlin often helped Gaius to treat patients in the lower town and once or twice had become ill himself due to his exposure to different diseases. However, there had been no outbreaks of disease in the past few weeks so again, this was unlikely to have been a contributor to the accident. Whatever the reason, Arthur was decidedly _not_ happy with his servant at the moment – although Merlin thought his friend had seemed a little concerned as well as annoyed. Hopefully the King wouldn't be too angry.

…..

The day had started out quite normally, with Gaius calling for the servant to get up immediately if he didn't want to be late and Merlin quickly throwing on a tunic, pants and his boots before rushing out of his room, grabbing a piece of bread and some cheese for breakfast on his way out. His stomach rumbled loudly and he mentally berated himself for missing dinner the night before. He had been in the forest, trying to follow a lead on a Morgana's activities, but sadly received no reward for his efforts. By the time he returned home to Camelot, he had been too tired to do more than undress and collapse into bed.

After fetching the King's breakfast from the kitchens and tasting a little of the food to ensure that it had not been poisoned again, he made his way to Arthur's chambers. As usual, he neglected to knock before entering the chambers, as usual he placed the breakfast on the table, and as usual he threw open the curtains with a loud and cheerful 'Rise and shine!'.

What was _not_ usual was the sharp pain which lanced through his head with the bright sunshine. Wincing, he turned away from the window to find Arthur half sitting up in bed and glaring at him. Ah, so they were back to the usual routine.

"Do you really have to sound so _chipper_?" the King asked sullenly. Merlin, still a little taken aback by the sudden pain in his head, merely blinked. Arthur peered at him curiously.

"Are you alright?" he asked a little gruffly. Merlin gave his head a small shake to clear it, then sent his friend a large, goofy smile.

"Of course I am, Sire, just surprised by the fact that you're already stringing coherent sentences together this early in the morning!" he answered cheekily. Arthur shot him a mock-glare and tossed a goblet at him, which the servant ducked under. Yep, back to the usual routine.

…..

The rest of the day remained fairly normal. Thanks to Arthur's reluctance to get out of bed, Merlin had to rush to get him dressed and ready for the council meeting which was to take place that morning. While Arthur discussed important affairs of the state, the servant stood near the wall with a jug of watered-down wine. After the meeting had ended, Merlin helped Arthur to change into his chainmail and carried the King's equipment down to the training field for a session with the knights. It was only then that he left Arthur's side in order to deliver medicines prescribed by Gaius to the inhabitants of the castle and lower town.

Upon his return to the castle, his stomach began to ache, reminding him that it was past mid-day and all he'd had to eat was the meagre breakfast he had grabbed that morning. He quickly ducked into the palace kitchens, taking two plates of food for himself and Gaius. Although he would have liked to eat with his mentor, when he reached the Physician's Chambers he found Gaius was out, most likely visiting a patient. A little disappointed but not surprised, the servant ate his lunch and left the second plate on the table with a short note for Gaius before hastening down to the training field to help pack up after the knights' practise.

His stomach ache had only slightly abated, but he wasn't worried and had no trouble completing the familiar tasks of gathering up the King's sword, shield, mace and other equipment, which he dumped in the armoury on his way to Arthur's chambers. Upon entering, he found an impatient Arthur, still hot and sweaty in his chainmail, seated behind his desk.

"Well, it's about time", the King greeted him.

"Sorry Sire", Merlin murmured, knowing it was pointless to try to defend himself.

"What have you been doing this whole time? You haven't even made my bed yet!" Arthur exclaimed. "Don't think that when I'm training with the knights it gives you the opportunity to slack off. Please tell me you weren't at the tavern again!"

"No, Arthur, I –" Merlin swallowed as his stomach roiled. "I was completing my rounds for Gaius. Would you like me to make your bed now?" He offered quickly.

"So long as it's not too much trouble for you", the King said patronisingly. "And once you've finished with that I need you to draw me a bath – _some_ of us actually work hard around here!"

Merlin bit back a scathing retort, simply saying "Yes, Sire", as he moved towards the king-sized bed. He picked up the pillows from the floor and replaced them before reaching for the sheet. As he leant over the bed, his stomach gave a sudden, sickening lurch. Merlin gasped and brought his hands to his mouth, before emptying the contents of his stomach all over Arthur's bright red sheets.

He heard Arthur's exclamation of mingled shock and disgust, but couldn't help himself as he fell to his knees, still retching. He knew that as a servant he was supposed to clean up after the King rather than make additional mess, and could well be punished for vomiting on his bed, but he felt awful and was powerless to stop himself as he heaved once more.

Finally finished, Merlin shakily pushed himself to his feet and looked across at Arthur, who was staring at him in disgust and – could it be – a little concern.

"What… are you…" Arthur paused, clearly torn between yelling at his servant and actually showing concern for the man. Merlin looked awful – his recent bout of vomiting had left a sheen of sweat on his forehead and he still shook slightly. Combined with this was the look on his face, that of a small animal who knew it had done something wrong and was terrified that it was about to be punished for it. Arthur was angry about the mess, but Merlin obviously felt awful and he couldn't bring himself to be overly harsh towards his friend. He opened his mouth once more.

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

…..

_This ended up a bit longer than I originally intended it to be but I started writing and the whole thing just came out! I hope you liked it. I enjoyed writing it! A reminder that I am open to prompts, so if you have any ideas for short stories please send them to me! Thanks!_


	28. Nimueh's Fury

**Nimueh's Fury**

_Nimueh is furious at her inability to kill Uther and Arthur. Set in Season 1._

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'Merlin' or any of the characters._

…_.._

The High Priestess Nimueh, standing atop a hill just short of the White Mountains, drew in a breath. Her eyes sparked with fury, and her hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides. The forest below her was almost completely silent; the only sounds those of the wind rustling through the trees, and the occasional chirp of a bird.

Nimueh was angry. She was _furious_. Yet again Arthur Pendragon had managed to escape almost certain death, and Uther – Camelot's brutal tyrant of a King – remained firm in his belief that all magic was evil. Despite the numerous sorcerers and sorceresses who had done nothing to incite the King's wrath and merely sought a quiet, peaceful life, Uther continued his genocide of those with magic. Nimueh wondered bitterly if his hatred of magic included the birth of his only son and heir, Prince Arthur. Was this, too, considered evil in his eyes? And what of the sorcery the young Prince's servant, Merlin, used nearly every day to protect Arthur? If he learnt of the young man's powers, would Uther be content to let his son die rather than have him protected by magic?

The King_ deserved_ to die for his crimes against her people and yet here she stood, the last High Priestess of the Old Religion, wielding immense power and still unable to kill Uther or his son because of Arthur Pendragon's great destiny. She had suspected for some time that the legendary 'Once and Future King' – destined to unite the land of Albion and return magic to the kingdom – was the child of Uther Pendragon and his wife Ygraine. Now it seemed that her suspicions were being confirmed. And if that were so, then surely Merlin must be the mighty Emrys – feared and respected by all magic-users, and foretold to be the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth. With the warlock as a potential enemy, she would have to tread very carefully.

Nimueh raised her arms to the sky, and the wind that had been so gently whistling through the treetops, playing softly with her hair, became a savage onslaught, wreaking havoc upon the previously tranquil scene before her. Branches were torn from their trunks, roofs of houses and barns displaced by the fierce gale. And on the hill Nimueh stood, eyes blazing gold in her fury.

…_.._

_Just a short one-shot to demonstrate Nimueh's power. As a High Priestess, she is supposed to be one of the most powerful sorceresses in the land, and I feel that this could have been shown a little more in the show. Please send me a review to let me know what you think!_


	29. Worry For A Warlock

**Worry for a Warlock**

_Gaius is worried about Merlin, who is clearly upset but won't confide in anyone. Set in Season 2._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

_..._

Gaius was worried about his ward. He knew that the boy had a lot on his plate, what with working for Arthur, helping the physician and saving the Prince's life on a regular basis, but despite all of this, Merlin could usually be seen with a large grin stretching from ear to ear. Gaius was the only one in Camelot who knew of Merlin's secret abilities, so he was the one who Merlin confided in when his combined responsibilities became almost too much to bear. He had witnessed several occasions when Merlin had been upset, and the bright smile he loved had been temporarily removed from his features. But until now, his ward had always managed to pull himself together and move on with the smile firmly intact.

Lately, however, Gaius had seen that smile only very rarely. He knew that Merlin tried to hide his problems from Arthur, but once out of the Prince's sight his smile fell away and he allowed his shoulders to slump dejectedly, weighed down by the massive burden placed upon them. Merlin was suffering, and he no longer replied when Gaius asked him what was wrong.

He had lost weight, too – and he had been thin enough to begin with! The warlock's clothes hung loosely from his wiry frame, and Gaius thought guiltily of what Hunith would say if she could see her son now. He had to admit that at the moment, he wasn't doing a very good job of looking after the boy.

During Merlin's first few weeks as Arthur's manservant, Gaius had had to wake his ward up to prevent him being late for work. But now, Merlin rose with the sun and was often gone by the time Gaius awakened. The physician wondered uneasily if the warlock may have been avoiding him, but whenever he tried to talk to Merlin about it, the boy brushed off his concern with an 'I'm fine' and a smile which didn't reach his eyes.

Even Arthur seemed to have noticed his manservant's sudden funk. He was being almost considerate of the warlock, and had privately visited Gaius to ask if all was well with his friend (before charging the physician never to repeat their conversation to a living soul). Gaius was glad that the Prince was showing signs of caring for Merlin, but he knew that Merlin did not feel he could confide in Arthur, especially knowing as he did of the Prince's prejudice against those with magic. Gaius wished that he could help Merlin, a boy whom he had come to love as a son, but Merlin didn't seem to want help. Indeed, he seemed determined to create as much distance between himself and others as possible, as though by doing so he could protect his friends from harm. His own pain seemed to matter very little to the selfless serving boy. But those closest to him saw it and despaired, longing for the cheerful young man with his big ears and infectious grin to return.

…

_So… what did you think? Was it okay? Please send me a review to let me know! Also, if anybody would like to check out my multi-chapter fic, 'Past and Present Pains', please feel free to do so. _

_P.S. Sorry for the boring title._


	30. Practise Makes Perfect

**Practise Makes Perfect**

_Here is a light-hearted little tale which I wanted to put up, considering most of my recent chapters have been more dramatic or sad._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…..

After living with Merlin for eight years Gaius thought that there was nothing his ward could do to surprise him. But when Merlin staggered into his chambers, tripped up the stairs into his own small room and vomited into the corner before falling onto the bed and promptly passing out, Gaius was a little concerned.

When Merlin woke up it was to a pounding headache. He sat up, groaning as the pain in his head grew and he smelt the sickly stench of vomit. Gaius entered the room, allowing a grim smile when he saw his ward awake and sitting up. He walked towards Merlin's bed, and produced a small bottle of muddy brown liquid.

"Drink this", he said, handing the bottle to his ward. "It will help with the headache."

Merlin took the bottle his mentor offered and downed the liquid in one gulp, grimacing at the bitter flavour. Gaius settled himself down in the chair next to Merlin's bed, and regarded the warlock intently. Merlin looked across at him innocently.

"Merlin, what happened last night?" Gaius enquired.

"Ah." Merlin bit his lip, looking at his mentor embarrassedly. "I – was at the tavern." Gaius blinked, surprised.

"The tavern?" he asked sceptically. Merlin sighed.

"Arthur's started to go with the knights every few weeks. You know he thinks that I spend half my time in there – thanks to you! What will he think if he sees me drunk after one tankard?" Gaius raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"So you want to convey to Arthur that you are used to spending time at the tavern?" Gaius asked, still a little puzzled.

"Yes!" Merlin exclaimed, glad that his mentor had understood. "Every time I go missing you tell Arthur I'm in the tavern; I have to be convincing or he'll start to wonder where I actually go!"

"I see", the physician mused, "So you believe that by drinking more often you will improve your capability to drink more in a single evening?"

"Well…" Merlin shrugged. "Practise makes perfect, right?"

…

_This story came into my head when I was thinking about how Gaius always says that Merlin is in the tavern, but considering how thin Merlin is he probably can't hold his liquor very well. That led me to wondering if Arthur would realise Merlin can't be in the tavern that often if he actually went drinking with his servant. I thought that if he believed Merlin goes to the tavern a lot, he would probably be expecting him to be able to drink a lot more than he actually can. Am I making sense?_

_Anyway, hope you enjoyed this!_


	31. Loathing the Knighthood

**Loathing the Knighthood**

_Summary: Sometimes Gwaine hated being a knight._

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the TV show 'Merlin' or the character Gwaine._

…

Sometimes Gwaine hated being a knight of Camelot. Not for the reasons which one would expect, either – there was only so much you could drink and so many women you could flirt with before wanting to settle down in one place, and he didn't mind if he frequented the tavern a bit less often than he had in his wandering days. No, the part that he hated was how many friends were lost. He was closest with the original Knights of the Round Table, who were all among Camelot's finest warriors, but everybody died sooner or later and there were some odds that no man could win against. Since becoming a knight, Gwaine had ridden out on many journeys, patrols, quests and hunting trips, and although he and his comrades were not attacked _every_ time they rode out, it still happened far too often for his liking. Gwaine had seen many good knights felled by a well-aimed blow, or crumble under the sheer weight of numbers. He was not afraid of death, although he prayed that when it did come it would not be slow and painful, but in some heroic act where the loss of his life would _mean _something; would help another to survive or some battle to be won. He was not, and had never been, a coward. But despite his jokes and irresponsible behaviour, he was intensely loyal and felt the loss of each and every fallen comrade more keenly than if he himself had received the blow which had ended a life.

There were perks to being a knight, of course. The banquets were magnificent, and he and Percival had discovered a grate directly above the kitchens from which food could be stolen, although the cook hated them both with a passion. He had true friends here in Camelot, the best he had ever had, and he was respected and liked by all of the villagers. He also had his own chambers within the castle, and lived in them rent-free, due to his status as a knight. When he thought about these things, Gwaine felt that coming to Camelot had been the best decision of his life. But when he remembered all of the friends he had lost along the way, he wondered if it was really worth it.

…_.._

_Hope you liked this!_


	32. If I Don't Die (You'll Take Yours)

**If I Don't Die**

_This short story is set in 'The Death Song of Uther Pendragon', episode 3 of season 5, so there are some spoilers for this episode. This is a different take on the scene where Arthur tells Merlin to drink the potion first so he can make sure it's safe._

_Disclaimer: 'Merlin' doesn't belong to me._

…

"The potion will allow you to see Uther in his spirit form", the physician told them. "Once you are in his presence, you must blow the horn. It is the only way you can force him to go back to the spirit world."

"Is it safe?" Arthur asked dubiously, wrinkling his nose at the yellowish-green liquid. Gaius opened his mouth to confirm that it was, then reconsidered.

"I can't say I'm entirely sure", he admitted. Arthur pulled a face, but raised his vial, watching Merlin carefully. The servant lifted his own vial to his lips, then noticed the King's gaze upon him and paused.

"What are you waiting for?" He asked suspiciously.

"To see if it's safe", Arthur replied seriously. Merlin looked to Gaius for confirmation, then back at the King.

"So, if I don't die, you'll take yours?"

"Precisely." Arthur agreed, his gaze fixed on Merlin. The servant paused, unsure whether this was some sort of joke, but his friend's eyes were completely serious. "Get on with it", Arthur prompted him.

The warlock raised the vial to his lips, downing the foul liquid in one gulp. He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut at the taste, then looked back up at Arthur. The King appraised him, as though waiting for some sign that the potion was unsafe. Merlin shrugged, as though to say _'It's fine.'_ Suddenly, his eyes widened and he stared at Arthur with what could only be described as panic. He held the King's gaze for only a second, blue eyes meeting blue, before collapsing off the chair and onto the floor.

Arthur's froze, his face fixed into a mask of shock, before springing off his chair and to his friend's side.

"Merlin!" he cried, shaking his friend by the shoulder. "Merlin, come on." The manservant's eyelids fluttered, and he opened his eyes, gazing up at the King's anxious expression. "Don't drink yours", he whispered hoarsely. Arthur stared in horror as Merlin's eyes lost focus and his head dropped to the floor. Then Gaius was by his side, urging him to pick Merlin up – quickly, quickly, but gently – and hurrying towards his chambers. Arthur ran, cradling Merlin's lifeless form to his chest and praying that his friend would be alright. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have forced Merlin to test the potion first? It was he who had insisted on seeing his father one more time, he who had released Uther's spirit into the human world. _He_ should have been the one to drink the potion. Merlin gave a gasping breath, his face pallid and drawn, and Arthur was forcibly reminded of the time, so many years ago, when Merlin had drank the Mortaeus poison to save him. That had been only months after Merlin had become his manservant, long before Arthur would have admitted their friendship, but years later, Merlin was still saving his life. Why was it that those closest to him always seemed to suffer?

Arthur was wracked with guilt as he gently lay Merlin down on the physician's bed. It was true that Merlin was one of his closest friends and most trusted advisors, but lately he had been treating the man less like a friend and more like a servant. It seemed that since their disastrous first meeting the pair had grown closer and closer, but recently, Arthur realised, he had pushed Merlin further away. He had Guinevere now, and the knights, but that was no reason to ignore his first true friend, without whom he probably would not have his Queen or loyal knights.

As he thought about it, it stung him to realise just how little time he had spent with Merlin over the past few months. Oh, he had spent a lot of time with him if you counted the chores that Merlin did for him – he saw his servant every day – but not true, quality time. They still engaged in the playful banter that was a trademark of their relationship, but the King couldn't remember the last time he had sat down and had a proper talk with Merlin. Of course he was busier now that he was monarch, but that was no excuse to neglect his friend. And Merlin had seemed tired lately. That he _had_ noticed, but somehow never got around to asking his friend about it. Now that he thought about it, the servant had also been quieter than usual in the recent weeks, and seemed pale and generally worn out. He should have realised. He should have asked his friend if he was alright. He should have made Merlin a priority, rather than pushing him to the side. His other duties were important, of course, but when he became King he had vowed to be there for his people and to help them as best he could. He had neglected to do this with Merlin, and now the loyal servant was paying the price for Arthur's carelessness.

….

_I was disappointed in Season 5 as I felt that Arthur neglected Merlin in favour of the knights and Guinevere, and Merlin became more paranoid and isolated from the group in general. That was my main motivation for writing this, but it was also partially just me watching the episode and thinking 'What if the potion actually __wasn't__ safe?'_


	33. Conflicting Allegiances

**Conflicting Allegiances**

_Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this collection of stories so far!_

_Disclaimer: I still don't own 'Merlin'._

…_._

The warlock gasped – the swift intake of breath the only sound made as he crumpled to the ground. He raised his head a fraction, looking up at the woman smirking cruelly down at him.

"Morgana", he croaked, staring up at the Lady who had once been so kind and beautiful. Now, her face was twisted into an ugly sneer as she stared down at him with the utmost contempt. Her dark hair, once so soft and carefully styled, was now tangled and messy, with small twigs and pieces of string twisted up in the knots. "Why are you doing this?" The witch bit her lip, smiling at him wickedly.

"Why, Merlin, surely you know?" Her smile widened. "I seek what is rightfully mine. I seek the thr-"

"The throne belongs to Arthur", the servant forced out through gritted teeth. "He is a great King, and one day he _will_ unite these lands and all of their people."

"Come now, surely you don't believe that", Morgana said scornfully, grabbing the scrawny man by the chin and forcing him to look at her. "After how he's treated my kind?"

"He is not your father, Morgana", Merlin reminded her, staring unflinchingly into the cold, slightly manic green eyes.

"You think I don't know who he is? You think his rule is _any_ different than Uther's for those of us with magic?" She flung the servant away from her, and he thudded to the ground once more. "Arthur has persecuted my kind just like his father before him!"

"And you have waged war upon Camelot!" Merlin raised his head, looking up into the face of the woman who had once been one of his closest friends. The woman who was now Camelot's greatest enemy. "How can you expect Arthur to ever believe that magic can be used for good if all you use it for is to cause death and destruction? How will he grow to accept magic-users if all he has ever seen magic to be used for is to cause pain?"

"You seem to have given this an awful lot of thought", Morgana sneered, looking down at him as though he were an insect – one which she would take great pleasure in squashing.

"And you seem to have not thought this through", Merlin replied quietly. She stared at him, too angry – too shocked – to speak. Her own allies did not dare to speak their minds to her, and yet here was her foolish half-brother's servant, acting for all the world as though _she_ were the one cowering on the cold stone floor while he stood above her – as though she were somebody to be pitied, not feared.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked again, still regarding her with that unexplainable expression of sadness and pity. "Why turn your back on your family, your friends?" Morgana's expression became even colder than before.

"In case you don't remember, one of those friends tried to poison me", she spat, turning away. She took a deep breath, breasts straining against the tight black fabric of her dress, and willed herself to remain calm. She had sworn to herself that she would not be hasty. She knew that Merlin was extremely dedicated to Arthur. She knew that her chances of getting him to talk were slim. But she also knew that her brother cared for his servant. Even if Merlin wouldn't talk, Arthur would come after him. Of that she had no doubt. And when he did, she would be ready for him. But for now, it would be… _prudent_… to ensure that the servant could not make any hasty attempts to escape.

She pivoted to face him, silver knife flashing through the air. Merlin gasped in pain as the blade pierced his stomach, waves of pain spreading throughout his body like ripples on the surface of a lake. She gave the knife a vicious twist, driving it further into his stomach before wrenching it out again, the silvery metal now glinting dully with the metallic red of his blood.

"Arthur", Merlin choked out. He drew in a single, rattling breath, then slumped to the ground, unconscious.

…

_How was it? I was thinking of making this into a multi-chapter story if it gets any interest. Please review to let me know what you thought!_


	34. Fire

**Fire**

_Hello! I just wanted to say a thank you for all of the positive feedback I received on the last chapter. I have begun to add onto it to turn it into a multi-chapter story. I'm not sure about a title for it yet, so if anyone has ideas feel free to make a suggestion. Thank you again to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…_._

Merlin ran frantically through the halls, searching desperately for Arthur. He skidded to a halt at the end of the corridor then was off and running down the next. There was room for only one thought in his mind; he needed to get to Arthur.

Thick black smoke was spilling out into the corridor from Arthur's chambers when Merlin reached them. He flung the door open without a second thought, his eyes watering as the smoke stung them. He covered his mouth with his sleeve and dashed into the fire. Coughing, he spun in a circle, searching desperately for his friend. His eyes flashed gold and the smoke cleared to reveal Arthur passed out on the floor.

Quickly making his way over to him, Merlin slung Arthur's arm across his shoulders and dragged the unconscious King to the doorway. He turned back as he heard a muffled cry from inside the room, and stared into the flames for a second. Then he turned away.

He dragged Arthur along the corridor, around the corner and along the next corridor, finally laying him down when he was convinced they were a safe distance from the fire. Arthur stirred feebly, mumbling something under his breath, and Merlin straightened up, relieved. With a last glance back at Arthur, Merlin turned and ran back the way he came.

He took a deep breath as he reached Arthur's chambers, then entered the burning rooms once more. He opened his mouth to call out and inhaled smoke and ash, scorching his throat.

"Gwen", he croaked, "Gwen!"

"Help!" he heard Gwen's terrified voice from near the cupboard. "Somebody please help me!"

Merlin fought his way through the flames towards the Queen. Her head snapped up when he laid his hand on her arm, and she looked at him as though he was a ghost.

"Merlin", she whispered, eyes widening in shock and relief.

"We need to get out of here", Merlin urged and she allowed him to pull her to her feet and towards the doorway, which was hidden by the thick smoke.

"Go", Merlin choked out, pushing her towards the exit. "Go! Hurry!"

With a final push he released her arm. She stumbled out of the door and ran from the room, not looking back.

Merlin stumbled, coughing as the smoke poured into his lungs. He jogged towards the door but caught his foot on a goblet which the King had left on the floor and fell, sprawling onto the floor. He howled in pain as a flaming post from the bed fell onto his back. His eyes flashed gold and the post flew through the air, crashing into the opposite wall.

Eyes streaming and struggling desperately to breathe, Merlin crawled towards the doorway, a faint patch of light in the heavy black smoke that was filling the room. He was so close, so close now…

The servant's vision blurred and his eyes flickered shut. He exhaled heavily as his muscles relaxed and his head flopped onto the floor.

…..

Arthur slowly opened his eyes and blinked. He looked around him, dazed, and quickly stood, groping for his sword at his waist. It was not there, and Arthur realised that he was wearing his nightclothes. Suddenly his finely-tuned senses kicked in, and he smelled the bitter, cloying scent of smoke. He ran down the corridor towards the fire, fear coiling in his gut.

…..

Gwen ran from the fire, tears streaming down her cheeks. A scream echoed through the corridor and she paused, turning to look behind her. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the scream had come from Merlin. Face contorted in agony, Gwen turned away from her friend's screams and ran in the opposite direction.

…

Arthur pounded down the corridor, anxiety for his loved ones forcing him on. As he reached the end of the corridor Gwen rounded the corner and fell into his chest. Her face was blackened and tears streaked her cheeks, but she was safe.

"Gwen." He grabbed her and hugged her to him tightly, but she pushed him away, sobbing.

"Merlin", she gasped out. "He rescued me – helped me get out – I heard him scream –"

With a look of horror Arthur pushed past his wife and pelted off down the corridor. Gwen watched him go, tears sparkling in her eyes.

…

Merlin woke to find himself in his own bed. He tried to sit up, but his back screamed in protest and he fell back onto the worn pillow with a moan. He heard a sound from his left and gingerly turned his head towards the noise.

Arthur was sitting on the room's single, hard-backed chair, fast asleep. As Merlin watched him, puzzled, he stirred and slowly opened his eyes, glancing around the room. His gaze settled on Merlin, who was watching him with a confused expression.

"Merlin!" Arthur scrambled out of the chair and stood for a minute, looking foolish, before slowly sinking back down into the uncomfortable chair. He pulled it closer to Merlin's bed and looked helplessly at his friend who was still looking up at him with that innocent, questioning gaze. Dammit! Why was Merlin so innocent?

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, yeah – I'll be fine." Arthur's eyes roamed over the burnt and puckered skin on Merlin's forehead. The servant's hair had been singed by the fire, and burns scarred most of the left side of his face. Arthur winced in sympathy.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked, concerned. The details of the previous night had been tugging at the edge of his conscious and now came flooding back to him. Arthur – the fire – Gwen. And then the pain…

"Is Gwen alright?" He croaked urgently, his voice hoarse.

Arthur looked at his friend incredulously.

"Merlin, what do you remember?" he asked seriously. Merlin looked up at him, confused.

"There was a fire – you were unconscious –" He trailed off, suddenly worried. Had he done something wrong? Had he – his heart skipped a beat – had he inadvertently revealed his magic? To Arthur?

"Yes, Merlin." Arthur tried to sound patronising, secretly wondering what could have caused Merlin to go so pale. He dropped the pretences, and his expression became serious.

"You saved my life."

Merlin looked up, surprised, into Arthur's serious gaze. His face split into a lopsided grin.

"You noticed that, did you?" He asked, eyes sparkling. Arthur snorted, trying not to grin back.

"Yes. I did." Arthur took a deep breath. "And you saved Guinevere as well." Merlin smiled softly, and Arthur looked at his manservant, more grateful than Merlin had ever seen him.

"You saved the King and Queen's life, Merlin", Arthur said gently. But Merlin shook his head, brow furrowed.

"No, I didn't", he said firmly. Arthur looked confused. "I didn't save the King and Queen", Merlin continued, adamant. "I saved two of my best friends."

Arthur felt a lump rise in his throat and he swallowed. He was touched by Merlin's devotion and the way in which he was willing to lay down his life for his friends. Arthur was beyond grateful; especially that Merlin had returned to save his beloved Guinevere after dragging him away from the flames.

Based on what Gwen had told him, Merlin had run to their chambers and into the fire to save Arthur. He had dragged the King to the corridor he had woken in, a safe distance from the fire, then had turned and run back into the growing flames to save the Queen. The whole of Camelot loved their King and Queen, and only still had them thanks to Merlin.

Arthur felt his eyes prickle with tears as he looked down at his servant – no, his _friend_. Merlin had suffered burns to much of his body while saving Arthur and Gwen, but there he was looking absolutely contented and willing to do it again.

"Arthur?" Merlin was looking at him, his face a mixture of anxiety and confusion. "Is everything alright?"

Arthur looked at Merlin. He didn't seem to realise what he had done. The idiot didn't realise just how brave he was. Arthur took a deep breath.

"Thank you, Merlin", he said softly. "Not many would have risked what you did. It appears that once again, I owe you my life." Merlin's face split into a wide grin. Arthur patted him on the shoulder and stood.

"You should get some rest", he said gently, turning away. Merlin smiled softly at Arthur's retreating back.

"Arthur", he called. The King paused and turned on the threshold, looking at the dark-haired man questioningly. "I'm glad you're alright." Arthur smiled, then turned and exited his servant's chambers.

…_._

_Hope you liked it!_


	35. Fallen Angel Part 1

**Fallen Angel Part 1**

_Based on Episode 1, Season 1 'The Dragon's Call'. I wrote this to provide a bit of back-story for the serving girl who was murdered by Mary Collins. Hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: 'Merlin' isn't mine._

…_.._

"I love singing", the young woman chattered happily as she wandered about the room, straightening the items on the desk and generally tidying up.

"My betrothed says I have the voice of a fallen angel." She pulled the piece of material off of the mirror, releasing a small gasp when the looking glass revealed an ugly old woman in place of the famous singer Lady Helena. Her eyes flickered to the lady briefly. Lady Helena looked back at her emotionlessly and the serving girl lowered her gaze quickly, walking towards the door. The dark-haired lady grasped her wrist with a surprisingly strong grip, turning the young girl to face her. Her mouth opened slightly, and the most beautiful sound Amelie had ever heard flowed from the singer's lips. The perfection of the melody was such that it was almost painful, but there was something wrong with the flawless tones of the woman's voice.

Amelie began to shiver. Her skin felt as though it was shrinking inwards, hugging the bones tightly, and her airways seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, making it almost impossible to breathe. She drew in one last, shaky breath before collapsing to the floor, dead.

…

_Part 2 coming soon. Amelie's betrothed sets out to search for her. As always, please send me a quick review to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome, as are suggestions/prompts for new stories._


	36. Fallen Angel Part 2

**Fallen Angel Part 2**

_A continuation of 'Fallen Angel' Part 1, based on 'The Dragon's Call'. Amelie's lover sets out to find her._

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'Merlin'. I do own any characters that you don't recognise, though._

…

Albrecht held the bouquet of wild flowers to his nostrils, breathing in the sweet, gentle scent with a sense of satisfaction. The blossoms were for his betrothed, Amelie, and he knew that she would be overjoyed with the colourful blooms. She loved flowers, and often remarked about how much nicer they could make a room look.

They had been together for almost a year, and were due to be married in a month's time. Neither of them had much to their name, but they loved each other and that was all that mattered to them. Albrecht knocked on the door to the tiny cottage where Amelie lived with her mother, Lara, and her younger brother Timothy. He was received by Lara, who told him that Amelie had gone to the castle. He thanked his future mother-in-law and, undaunted, headed towards the citadel.

He wandered through the castle's halls, looking for Amelie. Her main occupation was washing floors or tidying rooms, and he knew that she would be extremely happy with the distraction from her work. He turned down another corridor and found several serving maids scrubbing the gleaming floor. They looked up at the sound of his footsteps, some offering up smiles. They had met Albrecht before, and liked the gentle, soft-spoken young man.

"Do you know where I might find Amelie?" Albrecht asked politely after greeting the women. A few shook their heads, exchanging questioning glances with each other, but one – a slender young girl with a messy braid of red hair and kind brown eyes – nodded.

"She was waiting on the Lady Helena", she said in a soft voice. "She was sent to tidy the room." Albrecht nodded his thanks, a genuine smile of gratitude spreading over his face. After bidding the women farewell, he continued on towards the guest chambers of the castle.

It was easy enough to find the Lady Helen's chambers – one of the maidservants pointed out the room to him, and he hastily straightened the bunch of flowers clutched in his hand before raising a hand and knocking gently on the door. He waited patiently, but nobody came. He raised his hand and knocked once more, the door swinging open slightly at his touch.

…..

_Part 3 coming up – Albrecht discovers Amelie's body._


	37. Fallen Angel Part 3

**Fallen Angel Part 3**

_Part 3 of 'Fallen Angel'. Albrecht discovers Amelie's body…_

_Sorry it's been a while between updates, holidays are over so I don't have as much time to write and post stories, but I will try to keep them coming fairly regularly. Thanks for reading!_

_Disclaimer: I am not part of the BBC and I don't own 'Merlin'._

…

Albrecht stopped in the doorway, frozen in shock. There, lying upon the cold stone floor, was his beloved Amelie. She looked as pale as death and, when Albrecht summoned the courage to cross the short space between them and touch a finger to her ice-white cheek, she was as cold as death, too.

He took a shaky breath, trying to take in what he was seeing. It was inconceivable that Amelie, _his_ Amelie, could be lying there so cold and lifeless. Surely this must be some kind of awful dream. But as Albrecht gently stroked the hair of his beloved, he realised that it could not be a dream. Never in his life could the kind, gentle man have envisioned something so realistic and so awful. He knew then that it must be true. But what could he do? He knew the king would not care for the death of a serving girl. But surely this was no natural death. Amelie had been perfectly healthy only two days ago, when Albrecht had walked with her through the village market. The only explanation that the peasant could come up with was that Amelie had been killed using magic. And if that were the case, the magic-wielder was most likely still in the castle. King Uther may not have cared about the death of a peasant, but if that peasant were killed with magic he would certainly pay attention. Some said that he blamed sorcery for the death of his wife, although nobody could say for sure if this was the case. In any event, the king hated magic-users and would do almost anything to destroy those accused of practising enchantments.

Albrecht had to tell him. Not only to avenge the death of his beloved Amelie, but to prevent the sorcerer or sorceress, whoever they were, from killing again. Albrecht straightened, his eyes burning as tears pricked at his eyes, but he forced them back. His betrothed was gone, now the most important thing for him was to prevent anybody else from suffering such a terrible loss. Jaw set in determination, the young man strode out of the room to seek an audience with the king.

…

_The next chapter will be the final chapter of this series (I think!). Albrecht goes to inform Uther of the magic-user who has killed Amelie and witnesses Lady Helen's thwarted attempt to kill Prince Arthur._


	38. Fallen Angel Part 4

**Fallen Angel Part 4:**

_Hi everyone! Sorry this has taken a while, I had a bit of difficulty completing this and I wanted to finish my 'Fallen Angel' series before posting any of the other one-shots I have ready. This was going to be the last chapter, but it was too long in comparison to the others so there will be one more after this. Hope you enjoy it!_

_Summary: Albrecht seeks out the King to tell him of Amelie's death._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the show 'Merlin', and I don't own any characters other than Albrecht._

…_._

Albrecht hastened through the halls, intent on getting as far from his betrothed's body as possible. One part of him wanted to remain with her – to stroke her hair, kiss her lips and awaken her from her deathly slumber – while another part wanted nothing more than to run from the palace.

He was doing neither. Instead, he was rushing through the halls in pursuit of King Uther. Despite having lived in Camelot his entire life, he had never personally spoken to the King. Amelie had, during her time at the castle – she had recounted to him how terrified she was the first time she talked to him – but he couldn't think of that now.

Usually if a peasant wished to seek an audience with the King, they would do so in the council chambers, during the period of time allotted for the people's requests. But Albrecht feared that the sorcerer who had killed Amelie would seek to commit more murders in revenge for the persecution of magic-users, and felt that he could not delay. The banquet for the celebration of 20 years since the Great Purge would have begun by now, and Albrecht was confident that this was where he would find the monarch.

As he approached the heavy oak doors of the dining hall, the young man became aware of a voice raised in song. The melody flowed from the room, seeping sinuously through the crack under the door to reach his ears. He felt his awareness receding beneath a wave of fatigue, and slowed his approach. He felt so tired…

But he had to reach the King! Shaking his head, he stumbled onwards, bridging the gap between himself and the polished oak door. He shoved against it, coming to an abrupt halt as he took in the scene before him. The assorted nobles were slumbering, heads pillowed on their arms, while the unearthly music continued and silken strands of web crept over their gowns. The entire scene was bathed in an eerie blue light, and the only figure still moving was the singer Lady Helen, whose performance appeared to be reaching a climax as she raised one arm, a dagger glinting menacingly from within the clenched fist…

…_._

_Dun dun dun! It would be much more of a cliff-hanger if everyone reading hadn't already seen the episode, but oh well. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter and I would appreciate any reviews to let me know what you thought!_


	39. Fallen Angel Part 5

**Fallen Angel Part 5:**

_Here is the final part of my 'Fallen Angel' series. I hope you have enjoyed the series and like this last chapter._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…

He made to cry out, but his tongue refused to respond and his muscles slackened as his exhaustion increased. He blinked blearily, struggling to maintain his focus…

The music cut off abruptly, jerking him from his stupor. Around the dining hall, nobles were also awakening, pulling spider webs from their hair and clothing as they glanced around in confusion. As his eyes travelled over the scene, Albrecht's gaze was drawn to a young man, dressed in a nondescript brown jacket and pants. He had not noticed the man before – he stood in the shadows, separate from the King's guests – but now that he was looking, he noted a certain charisma about the dark-haired youth which marked him as different from others present. Perhaps it was simply his peasant's clothing, contrasting strongly to the finely woven fabrics of the Lords' and Ladies' costumes. Perhaps it was his sense of alertness, whilst the rest of the court seemed confused and unsure of what had happened. Or perhaps it was the bright, clear blue eyes which were focussed unwaveringly on the fallen figure of Lady Helen – her hair having inexplicably transformed from rich brown to grey – who lay trapped beneath the fallen chandelier which had hung above her.

The man's eyes widened suddenly, flashing with panic as he darted forwards at a speed which should have been impossible. He barrelled into the Prince, yanking him to the floor mere moments before a dagger sank into the wood of his chair where the king's son had stood.

The grey-haired singer, having been thwarted in her assassination of the Prince, drew in a single long, suffering breath before collapsing. Albrecht moved into the shadows, paying little attention to the King's promise of a reward for the man who had saved his son's life. He had to see the dead woman's face.

Edging past the befuddled nobles, he made his way towards the front of the room. He stopped with a sharp intake of breath as he finally saw the face of the would-be assassin. This was not the Lady Helen, but he _had_ seen the elderly woman before. Before him lay the sorceress who had disappeared in a whirlwind from the main courtyard just days beforehand, following the execution of her son. It seemed she had been true to her promise, attempting to avenge the death of her own son by killing Prince Arthur.

His suspicions had been correct. Amelie had been killed by the sorceress' magic, but – if he was right about the flash of gold he had seen in the young man's eyes before he had pulled the king's son out of harm's way – magic had also been used to save a life. This man had accomplished what Albrecht himself had set out to do – he had prevented the witch from killing again, and saved the kingdom from the terrible loss of their Prince.

The sorceress was dead now; there was no reason to warn the King of her presence. If Uther had any suspicion that the man he had just rewarded with a position in the royal household was also a magic-user, he would surely be put to death. As a citizen of Camelot, Albrecht was bound to warn his monarch of any threats against the kingdom or the royal family.

_But_, he thought as he glanced across at the compelling young man, with his shock of black hair and deep blue eyes; _maybe that flash of gold wasn't a symbol of danger. Maybe – just maybe – it was a symbol of hope._

…

_I hope you enjoyed this final chapter of 'Fallen Angel'. I have a few stories lined up that I've been waiting to post until this series was done, so should be updating again soon! Just a reminder that I am open to prompts if you have any. Thanks for reading!_


	40. Hide All Weakness

**Hide All Weakness**

_Summary: Merlin isn't feeling well, but is determined not to let Arthur or anybody else know, viewing his illness as a display of weakness._

_This is the longest story in this collection so far, as I usually don't post one-shots that are over 1000 words. But I liked this how it was and didn't want to cut it down or post it in two parts. A bit of Merlin whump, because everyone seems to enjoy reading about a suffering warlock._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…_.._

As soon as he woke, he knew something was wrong. He couldn't put a finger on it exactly, but something about him felt different and he didn't like it. His muscles were aching, although that was nothing too unusual considering the number of chores involving heavy lifting or other taxing physical labour that Arthur had him perform on a regular basis. As he sat up, he noticed a slight tightness in his stomach, but ignored the uncomfortable sensation and continued with his preparations for the day.

The elderly physician looked up as his ward descended the short flight of steps leading into his chambers.

"Ah, Merlin. Would you be able to drop off these preparations for Lady Elspeth and Sir Leon on your way to Arthur's chambers? Lady Elspeth needs to drink half the potion this morning and the other half tonight, and Sir Leon's is a pain-relieving potion – he knows when to take it."

"Of course", Merlin said, dredging up a bright smile for the benefit of his mentor.

"I made porridge for breakfast", the physician added, nodding towards a bowl on the bench. Merlin glanced across, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of the thick, sticky meal.

"Thanks, but I can get something from the kitchens", he said casually, reaching across to take the potions Gaius had indicated. "Don't want to be late for Arthur, do I?"

"Indeed", Gaius murmured. He straightened up, pausing in his task of grinding herbs with a mortar and pestle, and smiled across at the young man opposite him. "I'll see you later."

Merlin nodded cheerfully and left the physician's chambers.

It wasn't long before the warlock, having delivered the potions to Lady Elspeth and Sir Leon, was on his way to the kitchens. He quickly filled a tray for Arthur then, after hesitating for a moment, grabbed a small bread roll for himself. He knew better than to go without breakfast, and he was sure that the dry roll wouldn't aggravate the uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

Once in Arthur's chambers, he gave his usual, cheerful morning greeting of 'Rise and Shine!' and ducked as the sleepy King tossed a pillow at him. Once Arthur had finished his breakfast, Merlin helped him into his armour and collected his weapons for the knight's training that was to take place that morning. For some reason the load seemed heavier that day than usual, and Merlin's legs felt slightly wobbly. He stumbled slightly as they exited the castle and Arthur looked across at him, a vague hint of concern discernible in his blue eyes.

"Why are your things so heavy?" Merlin grumbled, hefting Arthur's shield higher up into his arms.

"It's due to your lack of strength, Merlin", Arthur drawled. "They're really not that heavy."

"Like you say you're not that heavy?" The servant bit back, with a nasty undertone to his otherwise joking statement.

"For the last time, I am _not_ fat!" The King protested, a little taken aback by the servant's spiteful retaliation. "And my weapons are _not_ that heavy!"

"Well, we can't all be as strong as you, can we?" Merlin mumbled sullenly as he followed Arthur to the training ground.

….

Merlin usually stood to watch the knights' training, but his legs were still feeling a little unsteady and he was not keen to stand for an hour while the knights and Arthur pummelled one another with various weapons. Instead, he sat on a bench near the training grounds, running a cloth absentmindedly over Arthur's spare sword as he watched. Although it was still reasonably early in the morning, the sun was already beating down mercilessly, leaving the knights covered in a fine sheen of sweat. The heat was enough to make Merlin's head spin and he realised with a start that he had had nothing to drink since the previous night. Shaking his head to clear both the thought and the dizziness, he refocussed his gaze on the knight's combative training, which seemed to be drawing to a close. After a further ten minutes, Arthur dismissed his men and walked over to where Merlin was still sitting, dropping his shield and mace at the servant's feet.

"What did you think?" he asked indifferently, glancing at his manservant for a brief moment before looking away once more. Merlin shrugged.

"It didn't seem any different from usual, to be honest", he replied. "Just a bunch of idiots beating each other up with swords and maces."

"Are you calling me an idiot?" Arthur asked indignantly.

"No, not you Sire", Merlin assured him. Arthur looked surprised at his servant's assertion that he was not an idiot, then pouted as Merlin continued: "You're definitely more of a clot-pole."

"I've told you before; that's not a word", he complained.

"And I've given you a definition before, _King_ Arthur", Merlin answered cheekily.

"Shut up, _Mer_lin!" Arthur retorted. "Gather my things, when we get back to the castle I want you to polish my armour, sharpen my sword, draw me a bath, fetch my lunch and find my speech on taxes for the council."

"Yes, Sire", Merlin muttered, stooping to pick up the King's shield and various weapons. His head spun once more as he straightened up, but as earlier, he ignored the light-headedness. He was rarely ill, and viewed sickness as both an inconvenience and an unnecessary display of weakness. All he needed was a drink of water. He refused to acknowledge that anything else could have been wrong.

…

"Are you nearly done?" Arthur called from behind the changing screen as Merlin dumped yet another bucket of water into the large wooden tub.

"Yes Sire", Merlin forced out through gritted teeth. He was _not_ in a good mood, and small things that usually wouldn't bother him so much – such as Arthur's inability to recognise his hard work – seemed incredibly frustrating at the moment. Turning away, he was suddenly hit with a wave of vertigo so strong it nearly knocked him off his feet. He dropped the bucket, but couldn't hear the clang it made as it hit the floor over the ringing in his eyes.

"What have you done now, Merlin?" Arthur asked impatiently, stepping out from behind the screen clad in only a pair of trousers.

"I need water", Merlin gasped, reaching out blindly for support as his vision receded to a tiny square of colour at the end of a long black tunnel. In two long strides, Arthur was at the servant's side. Grasping his friend firmly by the shoulders, he slowly lowered them to the ground until Merlin was in a sitting position. The dark-haired man curled into a ball, head resting between his trembling knees as he breathed raggedly in and out.

"It'll be alright Merlin, just hold on", Arthur instructed. Outwardly he seemed calm and efficient; inwardly he was filled with worry for his friend. Seizing the water jug on the table, he poured some water into a goblet and held it out to the servant, who took it with shaking hands and slowly lifted it towards his face. Arthur held the goblet steady while Merlin drank from it, trying to hide his anxiety over his friend's unsteady grip.

"Thanks", Merlin whispered hoarsely, weakly pushing the goblet away.

"What happened?" the King asked evenly.

"It's nothing, really", Merlin gave his head a small shake. "I'm fine."

"I'm not a fool, Merlin", Arthur said seriously. The warlock snickered.

"Could – have fooled – me", he replied breathlessly.

"Merlin, you're clearly _not _fine", Arthur pointed out.

"Yes I am", Merlin insisted. As though to prove his point, he uncurled himself and pushed himself to his feet, wobbling dangerously and grabbing Arthur's bedpost to keep from falling. "Just a little dizzy", he said, by way of explanation.

"You're obviously not well", Arthur stated once more. "Why didn't you tell me something was wrong?"

"_Nothing_ is wrong", Merlin said stubbornly, disregarding the fact that the bedpost was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

"People don't just faint, Merlin. Not even you, and we both know what a girl's petticoat you are."

"I'm fine", Merlin repeated, although with considerably less conviction. "I just got a little dizzy. It's passed now."

"Which is clearly why you're still clinging to the bedpost for dear life", Arthur said sarcastically. "Merlin, being ill is nothing to be ashamed of!"

"Yes it is", Merlin muttered, so quietly that Arthur almost didn't hear him. "Being ill is being weak, and I can't afford that."

"What?" Arthur scoffed. "Merlin, you know that you don't actually have a choice in whether or not you get sick, right?"

Merlin remained silent, and Arthur's face softened as he regarded his servant and friend.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but… you're actually not a bad servant", he admitted. The corners of Merlin's mouth twitched upwards. "And you should know that if, for any reason, you ever need to take some time off… I'm not going to stop you. I trust you Merlin, and if something's important enough to stop you from working, I won't question that decision. Unless you're in the tavern!" he added hastily, anxious that the servant would take advantage of his candid speech to tease him about showing his feelings.

Merlin chuckled weakly.

"Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate it. And… if there's ever a time when I can't be here to… to protect you… just be careful." The King's eyebrows rose slightly at his servant's words of caution, but he nodded.

"Come on", he said gruffly, ducking to place one of Merlin's arms around his shoulders. "Better get you to Gaius."

For once in his life, Merlin didn't protest. Instead, he allowed Arthur to guide him towards the physician's chambers, content to rely upon his friend as Arthur had relied upon him so many times before. They were, after all, two sides of the same coin, and they would always rely upon one another in times of trouble.

…_.._

_Thanks for reading! Please send me a quick review to let me know what you thought!_


	41. The Secret Sharer

'**The Secret Sharer'**

_Based on the episode 'The Secret Sharer' – after discovering Agravaine in the caves, Gwaine speaks to Arthur about his uncle._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…

Gwaine took a deep breath, aware that what he had to say would not be well received by the King. But he had sworn an oath to protect Arthur and Camelot, and he felt it was his duty to warn Arthur of the potential traitor he had uncovered. Bracing himself for the unpleasant conversation he knew would follow, he pushed open the door to the King's chambers and stepped inside.

"Arthur."

At the sound of his name, the King looked up from the paperwork he had been completing.

"Sir Gwaine", he greeted the knight cordially, waving him into the room. Gwaine entered the King's chambers and closed the door carefully behind him.

"I need to talk to you", he said roughly, slowly walking towards the King.

Arthur appeared slightly surprised, but laid down his pen readily enough.

"Alright. But if you expect me to pay for your tavern bill again…"

"It's not about that", Gwaine interrupted. He looked down briefly, then back up into Arthur's face. "It's about Agravaine."

As he had expected, the King's eyes narrowed slightly and his jaw stiffened at the mention of his uncle. He looked up at the knight, cold blue eyes focussed unblinkingly upon Gwaine's face.

"What is it you wish to say?" he asked, his tone warning Gwaine to be cautious about his next words. Gwaine took another step towards the monarch, his expression deadly serious.

"When I went with Merlin to find Gaius, Agravaine was already in the caves. I found him with Gaius, holding a knife to his throat."

Arthur immediately began shaking his head, not wanting to listen to the knight's allegations against his uncle. But what reason would Gwaine have for lying to him about such a thing? The King knew that Merlin had distrusted his uncle for some time, but he had not believed any of it – if he was being truthful, he had not _wanted_ to believe it. After being betrayed by Morgana and having to deal with his father's vegetative state and recent death, he wasn't sure he could cope with losing someone else.

"No, there must be some explanation…" He looked up at his friend, hoping to find some trace of doubt in Gwaine's eyes, but there was none to be seen. Arthur sighed, resting his head in his hands.

"Are you sure of what you saw?" he asked, determined not to admit his uncle was a traitor without undeniable evidence. Gwaine shrugged.

"When I confronted him he said he was trying to _help_ Gaius – according to him, he was using the blade to test if Gaius was breathing. But still, it doesn't explain how he knew where Morgana was holding Gaius. Or how he got there before we did."

"No", the King murmured once more, lost in thought. "It doesn't make sense." He shook his head, gaze remaining on the desk in front of him. "He's my uncle, Gwaine. Surely you don't believe he would betray Camelot or myself? And to _Morgana_? He has no relation to her; why should he help her to seize the throne?" A part of him wanted Gwaine to agree with him, to tell him that it was absolutely ridiculous to suspect _Agravaine_ of being a traitor, but he knew that the knight would never say something he didn't believe to be true. Gwaine hesitated before answering and despite himself, Arthur felt a tiny seed of hope sprout in his chest.

"I know you don't want it to be true… but I would watch him carefully if I were you." Arthur remained silent, pondering what he had been told. Gwaine had expected the King to blow up in his face over any accusations levelled at his uncle, but he was reacting to the knight's suspicions surprisingly well – he hadn't yelled at him, tried to attack him, called him a traitor or threatened to banish him. Perhaps the young King had already had suspicions regarding his uncle, but had simply not wanted them to be true?

Whatever the reason, Gwaine was glad that Arthur had given him the chance to talk and listened to what he had to say. He genuinely cared for his King and didn't want to cause him pain, but as a Knight of Camelot, he felt it his duty to warn Arthur of any possible threats, even if his instincts turned out to be false – although he highly doubted that they would, in this case.

"Thank you, Sir Gwaine", the King said finally, looking up at the knight. He seemed quite calm outwardly, but Gwaine knew that he must be struggling with a great amount of inner turmoil. "I will… take this information into consideration."

Gwaine nodded solemnly, then turned to exit the King's chambers.

"Gwaine!" Arthur called. The knight looked back. "Do not mention this to anyone", the King ordered. Gwaine nodded once more, then left. Arthur remained at his desk, staring unseeingly at his hands as he tried to reconcile himself to the implications of another betrayal.

…_._

_What did you think? I always thought it was odd that Gwaine so readily accepted Agravaine's excuses about testing to see if Gaius was breathing and having followed them to the caves. I thought he should have followed it up, so I wrote this. I would say it's not strictly canon, as in canon Arthur was much more oblivious to Agravaine's treachery, but I don't think it's too far off. Please send me a review to let me know your opinions!_


	42. Dear Sefa

**Dear Sefa**

_Guinevere writes a letter to her former maidservant._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Merlin'._

…

Dear Sefa,

I hope and pray that when – if – you read this, you are safe. You must understand that it was never my intention to hurt you. I needed to make your father pay for the crimes he has committed and the lives that have been lost, and to do that I needed you to be in danger. It was the only way to lure your father to Camelot.

I knew that no father could hear of their daughter being sentenced to death and do nothing, and I am sorry – truly sorry – that I was forced to use you in order to capture your father. I realise that you were not to blame for the lives lost – you only wanted to make your father proud, and that is not something that I could punish you for. If you are ever in need, please know that you are free to come to me for anything. I appreciate the time you spent serving me, and I am sorry that we had to part on such bad terms. With luck and good wishes for your future,

Gwen.

…_.._

_Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it._


	43. He Looks Like A Rat!

**He Looks Like A Rat:**

_This one was inspired by the long brown cloak which Arthur used to wear in Season 1. I wondered why he suddenly stopped wearing it, even though I didn't like it when he did wear it. In my opinion, it made him look like an overgrown rat, so that is where this little story came from. I hope you find it amusing!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

…

"Why don't you just admit it? He looks like a rat."

Gwen giggled, her eyes trained on Arthur's back as she walked along beside Merlin.

"Alright." She stopped, looking at Merlin out of the corner of her eye. "Arthur looks like a rat." Merlin stared at her uncertainly, not sure if she truly agreed with his assessment of the Prince's long, oddly rat-like brown coat or was just humouring him. She stared back unblinkingly, but he must have read something in her chocolate brown eyes, as his face soon split into a wide smile.

"I knew you'd see it!" he exclaimed, grin stretching from large ear to large ear. Guinevere rolled her eyes, and began walking once more.

"I did!" Merlin insisted, jogging a little to catch up to her. He lowered his voice. "Wouldn't it be unfortunate if something happened to it? Like, I don't know, if it caught on fire?"

Gwen shook her head, amused by her friend's attitude. "You wouldn't", she said confidently.

"Wouldn't I?" Merlin cocked an eyebrow at her – _he must have picked it up from Gaius_ – his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"_No_", Guinevere laughed. Merlin gnawed his bottom lip, obviously taking her disbelief as some kind of challenge.

"Give me a week", he requested, "And you will never see Arthur wearing that cloak again."

"Merlin –" Gwen began, intending to tell him how ridiculous it was that he was prepared to ruin the Prince's cloak just to prove he wasn't afraid, but Merlin cut her off.

"One week", he promised, before speeding up to catch up to Arthur.

….

Merlin glanced around the Prince's chambers nervously. Arthur was dining with his father, but he had been delayed on the way back to Arthur's chambers and was anxious that the Prince would return before his job was done.

The servant made a beeline for Arthur's closet, stepping over the goblet which Arthur had thrown at him that morning. He opened the door and began rummaging through in search of the cloak. He knew Arthur wasn't wearing it, and he hadn't taken it down to the laundry room, but he couldn't find it. He turned away, shutting the closet door, and surveyed the room carefully.

There it was! Lying on the floor, near Arthur's bed. The lazy Prince had most likely dropped it there after taking it off. _Although_, a small voice in Merlin's head whispered, _as the Prince's servant, he probably should have picked it up_. Seizing the offending garment, Merlin strode towards the fireplace. Kneeling upon the hearth, Merlin grabbed a poker and prodded the hot coals, trying to coax them into producing more heat.

"_Merlin."_ Merlin started at the familiar sound of Prince Prat's voice. Turning his head, he saw Arthur standing in the doorway, watching him with an inscrutable expression.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Merlin scrambled to his feet, trying to hide the Prince's cloak behind him.

"Just – stoking the fire", he said, smiling brightly. Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"It's hot", he said shortly.

"Really?" Merlin asked, pursing his lips. "I'm feeling a little cold."

"Ah, so is that why you have my cloak?" Arthur asked pointedly.

"What?" Merlin tittered nervously. "I don't have your cloak. Look, one hand" – he withdrew his right hand from behind his back and showed it to the Prince – "other hand." He placed his right hand behind him once more and showed Arthur his empty left hand.

"_Merlin_", Arthur said in a warning tone. Merlin sighed.

"Alright", he said, feigning defeat. "I'll tell you the truth." Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting impatiently for him to continue.

"Gwen really hates this cloak", Merlin confided in a loud whisper, holding out the item of clothing. Arthur stared at him suspiciously. "It's true!" Merlin insisted. "She said it makes you look like a rat."

"I do _not_ look like a _rat_!" Arthur objected, insulted.

"See, this is why I didn't tell you earlier", Merlin said, shaking his head sadly. "You should know that Guinevere told me this under _strict confidence_. She'd be very upset if she found out that you knew."

"Exactly, she'd be upset with you for having told me!" Arthur replied angrily. Merlin shook his head sorrowfully.

"I don't think so; you see, Gwen knows that if you order me to tell you something, I have to do it. Otherwise, you'll throw me in the stocks."

Arthur scoffed. "Oh, come on! How often have I thrown you in the stocks?"

"About once a fortnight", Merlin said matter-of-factly.

"And how often have you refused to do what I ask?"

"At least once a day", Merlin responded in the same tone.

"Aha! So, clearly, I don't throw you in the stocks every time you refuse to tell me something when I ask." Arthur said triumphantly.

"That's true", Merlin admitted. "But according to what I told Gwen, you _do_ throw me in the stocks nearly every time, so I think she would understand."

"_Merlin!"_ Arthur shouted. The servant looked at him innocently.

"What? I'm just saying, if you want Gwen to like you –" He trailed off, leaning back slightly as Arthur raised a finger and deliberately pointed it into his servant's face.

"Burn the jacket", the Prince said in an undertone. "And then go and muck out my stables. I wouldn't want them to go without being cleaned while you're in the _stocks_."

"But –" Merlin began to protest, but stopped talking as Arthur glared at him threateningly.

"Unless you want me to put you in there for an extra day, do _not_ say anything. And if you mention this to _anyone_ – especially my father or Guinevere – you'll be polishing the armour of every knight in Camelot. Got it?"

Merlin nodded.

"Good. Now stick it in the fire and go muck out the stables."

….

Gwen was just leaving the castle when she heard loud footsteps approaching her from behind. She turned to see Merlin jogging up to her, his face wreathed in smiles.

"Hello, Merlin", she said warmly, a smile spreading across her own face in response to Merlin's obvious cheerfulness.

"Guess what?" Merlin replied, his voice full of suppressed excitement. Guinevere felt an urge to laugh at his enthusiasm – in some ways, Merlin reminded her of nothing more than an overgrown puppy, tail wagging in excitement.

"What?" she asked, humour leaking into her tone. Merlin's smile, if possible, grew even wider.

"I got rid of the cloak!" He confided, barely managing to keep his voice down.

"What?" Gwen repeated, this time unable to prevent her laughter. "What did you do to it?"

"I burned it in Arthur's fireplace!" Merlin exclaimed, his blue eyes sparkling merrily.

"Does he know?" Gwen asked anxiously.

"Yeah." Merlin shrugged. "He didn't seem to like the cloak that much anyway, though." Gwen shook her head, astounded by her friend's casual admission that not only had he purposely burnt the clothing of the Crown Prince of Camelot, but that said Prince knew about it and hadn't sacked him on the spot or thrown him into the dungeons to teach him a lesson.

"So he's not going to punish you?" she asked. She knew that Arthur wasn't a harsh master, despite Merlin's complaints, but she couldn't imagine him allowing Merlin to burn his clothing without some kind of punishment.

"He's putting me in the stocks", Merlin admitted. Gwen tilted her head sympathetically, but Merlin didn't seem worried about it, gleefully declaring:

"It was definitely worth it!"

…_._

_So there it is. Just a light-hearted little thing which popped into my head one day. I hope it provided a possible explanation for why Arthur suddenly stopped wearing his rat-cloak._


End file.
